


break the sky

by akire_yta



Category: Skippy - Fandom
Genre: AU, College, M/M, cheerleading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The primer I posted is over <a href="http://verbosemofo.livejournal.com/37122.html">at LJ here</a>.<br/>And the bonus FSTs I received in the <a href="http://verbosemofo.livejournal.com/38786.html">exchange are here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The primer I posted is over [at LJ here](http://verbosemofo.livejournal.com/37122.html).  
> And the bonus FSTs I received in the [exchange are here](http://verbosemofo.livejournal.com/38786.html).

*\o/*

Mike leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why am I here again?” he asked William

Lounging with impossible grace on the wooden bleacher, William reached over to pat Mike’s shoulder. Mike could tell he was struggling to keep the smirk off his face. “Because,” he said, sounding almost sincere. “You need a scholarship to stay in school, and they have scholarships.” He gestured out across the gym, where a dozen other students, guys and girls, were limbering up on the blue practice mats. “And because you didn’t get any of the other scholarships you applied for.”

Mike scowled at one young guy who was sliding easily into the splits. “Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “I’d forgotten about that. Fuck,” he spat, sitting up straight only to slump backwards. “I have a 4.0,” he said to the air, like he was rehearsing a list. “I’ve gotten straight As, even in McCullough’s bastard methods class. I haven't even been hauled up by the campus cops!" Bill started sniggering at that. “Shut it, if it's not official, it doesn't count.” He sighed. “I can't ask my parents for any more money, not now.” This time, Bill's consoling pat on his shoulder was real. “I just need a break, Bill.”

William’s voice never changed from its soothing, even cadence. “Tis a competitive year, everyone's in the same boat. Well, except for this.” He gestured at the sea of hopeful. “I was talking to Gabe before, he says this is the lowest turnout ever, and he’s lost half of his squad from last year to graduation or injury. You might have a chance, even if you did give up gymnastics for the glories of the Barrington swim team. Just look enthusiastic and try to keep up.”

Mike stood up and shucked off his zip-up hoodie. “It’s fucking _cheerleading_ , Bill,” Mike snarled. “How hard can if fucking be?”

Less than ten minutes later, he was eating his words. The two coaches, Gabe and Victoria, had them doing stretches, pushups and sit-ups to ‘warm up,’ but which had Mike gasping for air like a landed fish after just a couple of reps.

“Fucking freshman fifteen,” someone behind him bitched.

“Dude, you’re a sophomore, admit it, you just got fat,” the guy next to him hissed back. Mike ignored them and resolved that, if he was still in school next year, he was giving up cigarettes and going back to the pool. This was just _embarrassing._

In front and to the left of him, a guy and a tiny girl were doing the reps like they were nothing. Mike struggled through the next rep and decided to hate them both on principle.

“Zack, man, gotta lay off the Taco Bell,” Gabe yelled across the mat. “That shit will kill you.”

“I’ll kill you, motherfucker,” a giant of a guy in the back corner of the mat shot back, breathing hard.

“Hey, remember, I’m the coach,” Gabe chortled.

Zack didn’t miss a beat in his sit-ups. “Then I’ll kill you, _Coach_ motherfucker.”

“That’s better,” Gabe said happily, moving on to stand on some poor girl’s toes while he watched her curl up and back, over and over again.

Mike tried to ignore William’s helpful thumbs up from where he was lounging on the stands as, at last, they were allowed to get up and made to assemble on one side of the mat. “Okay,” Victoria yelled, glancing down at the clipboard she had been carrying around. “Groups of four, keep my time, front flip, straight or tuck, your choice. Then show us your best standing move, then a back tuck or bend back, then walk off the mat. Ready?”

Mike had no idea what she just said. “What?” he hissed to the guy next to him, the trim guy with the mess of curls held back by a bandana, one of the ones who hadn’t even broken a sweat during all the sit-ups.

The guy tugged him to the back of the line, never looking away from the mat. “Watch,” he said a little quickly. “And if you think you’re going to mess it up, stand at the back of the row.” Mike almost changed his mind about the guy before he added, almost as an afterthought. “That way, if you go over, you won’t take the entire formation with you.”

Mike hung back and watched as the first four lined up in a diamond formation on the mat. At the back was the big guy, Zack, and another big guy was on the left. His singlet showed off arms covered in tattoos; not what Mike was expecting to find at a cheerleading tryout. The other two spots were taken by two more guys, one solid with a beard, the other a tiny scrap of a dude with dark hair. They all seemed to know each other, joking and laughing, but as soon as Victoria blew her whistle, they snapped into formation like pros.

“Ready?” Victoria yelled. “Go!” As one, the four of them leapt up and flipped over, landing together in such perfect time they made the floor rattle. Mike blinked. “Two three and FOUR,” she bellowed, and the four men all leapt again, each doing a different acrobatic trick. The two biggest guys went into weird handsprings, and the bearded guy did a twisting half-pike flip thing. The tiny guy, however, bounded back up into the air like a cannonball, and Mike couldn’t help but be impressed. “And handspring, back tuck!” Victoria yelled. The guys again all moved in perfect synchronization. “Not too sloppy, get,” she yelled with a wave of her hand as the four guys walked off the mat. “Next!”

Mike was slightly relieved to see the next four wasn’t anywhere near as neat or proficient, and in the third group, three of the four couldn’t make a single move. One of the guys just stood there, gawping, as the other three tried awkward handstands.

“Next!” Victoria yelled, and Mike stepped onto the mat with bandana-guy and the girl who had been doing the sit-ups easily, and another girl with a megawatt smile. “Ready, and go!”

Mike hoped he wasn’t embarrassing himself too badly. Before last night, when William had rushed into his dorm with his evil cheerleading plan to get Mike a scholarship, Mike hadn’t so much as cartwheeled in years. At least, not while sober. Muscles screamed at the unfamiliar strain, but at least he made it over and didn’t land on his head. For his standing trick, he kept it simple, going into a handspring and then twisting hand over hand in a figure eight movement. The rush of blood to his head made him a little bit dizzy, and he barely stuck the handspring back tuck, stepping forward to stop himself from tripping over on the landing.

He stepped off the mat, feeling like an oaf. William’s cheesy two thumbs up didn’t help. Much.

His four joined the rest of the group who’d already gone through on the far side of the gym. “Hi, I’m Kevin, by the way,” the guy said, smiling at him. “And this is Nic,” he added, gesturing to the impossibly tiny girl who was almost glued to his side.

“Mike,” he said, eyes fixed on the next lot going through. As much as being a cheerleader might suck and make him a target of his friends’ teasing until the end of time, at the end of the day he needed this scholarship. There just weren't any other options left. He watched closely as the next group stepped up to go through their moves.

Kevin didn’t seem to take the hint. “First time trying out?” he asked, sounding a little nervous.

Mike nodded, arms folded, and Kevin lapsed into awkward silence.

“Okay,” Victoria yelled. “Flyers and bases, on the mat.” A few people headed over to the far corner, including the girl Kevin had introduced as Nic.

“Everyone else, take five,” Gabe bellowed after them.

Mike looked around, bewildered. Kevin tugged on his arm. “Are you a base?” He must have seen Mike’s confusion. “You’re probably better off trying for a tumbling spot then.”

As Mike knelt with the other guys by the mat, he figured Kevin might have had a point. All the guys on the mat were huge. He watched, jaw dropping, as the girls trying out let themselves be tossed about like they weighed nothing. “Holy shit,” he whispered in breathless awe as one girl was hoisted straight up and around like a yo-yo.

“I know,” Kevin said, sounding rueful. “Northeastern used to be _the_ place to go if you were a flyer. Now, there are maybe four decent bases here. Wonder how that’s going to affect the line up?” On the mat, the girl with the killer smile stood, back to chest, with the guy with the beard. She bounced lightly in place, one, two, and three, and sailed straight up to balance with one foot cupped in his _hand_. Her other leg curled up behind her as she struck a pose.

Gabe clapped. “Sweet. Okay, you lot, I want you all to try a rewind with each other. Mix up your partnerships, see what you can do.” He turned and Mike rocked back as Gabe glared at the group huddled on the side of the mat. “Okay, tumblers! You’re up.”

The next hour passed in a dizzying, nauseating blur as Mike forced himself through running pass after running pass until his muscles were screaming and his stomach was a roiling ball of lactic acid. “Okay,” Victoria said, clapping her hands together. “We’ll announce the squad list 7pm tonight out front,” she yelled, pointing to the gym doors. “Anyone who doesn’t make the cut for A, you’re welcome to come to the B and pom squad tryouts tomorrow. Thank you.”

Mike staggered up the bleachers to find his shit. “How bad?” he asked William as he flopped bonelessly onto the bleaches and nearly slithered off.

“Not the worst out there,” William said, handing Mike his hoodie as he stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Before Mike could protest, William was skipping down the tiered seating, dashing across the mat to fall into step with Gabe just before the two coaches disappeared into their office.

Mike scowled and picked up his bag. He needed some water, and maybe to throw up a little.

He glanced at the clock over the door in the lobby as he left. 4pm.

*\o/*

Nic looped her arm around Kevin’s as they stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine. “My double back was so sloppy,” she complained as they walked, arm in arm, down the wide, shallow steps. “And my scorpion was more a sleepy apostrophe. I totally sucked.”

Kevin smiled, used to Nic’s freakouts. “Totally,” he agreed, straight-faced, laughing as she punched him in the arm hard enough to hurt. “Ow. Okay, you're buying me dinner to make up for that. Which way was the cafeteria again?” he asked her, glancing around, trying to get his bearings on the unfamiliar campus.

“That way, I think,” Nic said. She squeezed his hand at his skeptical look. “If we get lost, we’ll just call it an adventure.”

Kevin managed a watery smile. “You know I’m all for adventures.”

They finally managed to find the student union and some cheap burgers, and they chatted about nothing, each with one eye on the clock as the minutes ticked by with excruciating slowness. By unspoken agreement, they rose at six thirty to begin the walk back to the gym.

They weren’t the only ones there early. “Hey, it’s the tiny flyer,” one of them yelled happily as Nic and Kevin slowly climbed the stairs. “I hope you get in and get to be my partner,” he added. Nic lit up under the casual praise. “Did I introduce myself before? I’m Zack, and these idiots are Spencer, Brendon, and Travis.”

Nic nodded at each in turn. “I’m Nic, and this is my best friend, Kevin,” she said by way of introduction. “Were you all on last year’s squad?”

They all nodded, Travis holding out his hand to show off his championship ring. “Back again for another year of torment and torture.”

“You love it!” someone laughed as they came up the steps. The voice belonged to the bouncy girl who had been next to Kevin in the audition group.

“This is Cassadee,” Spencer said, looping his arm over her shoulder and squeezing her fondly. “She and Maja are the only two flyers from the old squad trying out again this year.”

Cassadee leaned into Spencer’s embrace like a little sister demanding snuggles. “Why break up a winning partnership?” She smiled, a little wolfishly. “Spence and I took out partner stunt at Nationals last year,” she added with pride.

Kevin whistled under his breath, noticing the way Nic tensed. She’d qualified last year for partner stunt, before, well, everything. Kevin sometimes thought that Nic wanted that trophy more than a squad ring. He couldn’t blame her, really. When she got going, Nic could defy gravity. With the right partner, she could maybe even touch the sky.

Slowly, as the minutes ticked by toward the hour, more and more of the hopefuls trickled up the stairs to mingle awkwardly around the bulletin board. He plastered a smile over his nervousness, and tried to learn names and faces -- even if he didn’t make squad, Nic was a shoo-in, especially with so few flyers trying out. He’d be coming to see her, and so her friends might become his too, if he was lucky.

He winced to himself, turning away slightly so Nic couldn't read his thoughts on his face. They'd been so lucky so far, but maybe this time his luck had run out. He couldn't stay at Northeastern without this scholarship, and he couldn't just go back; he'd burned those bridges. They'd pinned all their hopes on this squad.

Stopping to think about it, that was kind of stupid.

Kevin shook his head as he spotted Mike mooching out of the shadows to lean against the wall at the edge of the group. “Hey,” Kevin said with a smile, heading over and ignoring Mike's crossed arms and fierce expression.

“Hey.” This close, Mike looked a little pale. “No news yet?”

Kevin shook his head tightly, feeling his own nerves start to bubble up again. “That’s good news, right?” He bit his lip at Mike’s disdainful expression. “Hey. Think positive.”

Just then, the door open and Victoria stepped out. “Is everyone here?” She glanced around, head bobbing slightly as she did a head count. “Good. If I call your name, stick around for five minutes, get the info pack, consent form, and scholarship information. We'll have a proper team meeting tomorrow to go over the details. Okay, our flyers are...”

Kevin found himself crossing both sets of fingers, only breathing out as “Nicole Anderson,” was read out in a clear voice. Nic squealed and hugged him before dashing over to take her packet from Gabe.

“Tumblers!”

Kevin closed his eyes, feeling his stomach tighten with every name called out that wasn’t his. “Kevin Jonas.”

The ball of worry he'd felt knotting up inside his stomach melted away, and Kevin almost laughed in relief. But as he walked over, he saw a few of the old hands nudge each other, nodding toward him, and Kevin felt some of his elation evaporate. He kept the smile on his face as he accepted his own packet. Behind him, he heard Victoria say. “And Mike Carden. On to the bases.”

“Congrats,” Kevin whispered to Mike as he came to join the rest of the squad.

Mike looked too shell-shocked to do more than nod.

*\o/*

Mike slammed the door shut behind him.

“So, do we have a Northeastern cheerleader in our midst?” William asked, not looking up from the book he was reading.

Mike stalked over and snatched it out of William’s hands. “What did you do?” he demanded.

William was wearing his 'innocent' expression, but that had stopped working on Mike years ago. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked, trying for angelic and failing. Mike just raised an eyebrow. “I may have had a quiet word with the coaches about how much you needed this scholarship,” Bill said dismissively.

Mike snarled. “You did what? You fucker, how dare you...”

“Uh uh uh,” William said, waggling his finger. “You made the squad on your own merits. Well, mostly,” he amended. “I just gave you a little...” He waggled his hand, searching for the word. "Boost. That’s what cheerleaders do, right?” His smirk faded in the face of Mike’s glare. “Listen, Mike. You needed a scholarship to stay in school, right? I know it’s important to you that you finish this. And the NU cheerleading scholarships are sweet rides. They get to live in their own dorm building, a stipend, fees, meals. So get down off your high horse.”

Mike hated it, but Bill was right. “Whatever. Thanks,” he said gruffly.

“Don’t mention it. Now,” William said, leaning in as Mike sat down next to him. “When do we see you in the miniskirt?”

Mike hit him with his own book.

*\o/*

Kevin sank low in his seat as Coach Gabe and Coach Victoria strode into the room. “Consent and insurance forms,” Victoria snapped as Gabe walked around, taking and checking each form in turn. He nodded at Victoria as he tucked the last set of forms into a file. “Congratulations, you are now officially Northeastern U cheerleaders.”

Kevin smiled weakly at the cheer that went up around the room, the old hands yelling and catcalling as some of the bases stomped their feet. Victoria held up her hand, and there was instant silence. “Being a Cobra is an honour,” Gabe intoned into the hush. Next to him, one of the other new tumblers, Mike something, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You represent not only Northeastern, but also the long and proud tradition built by all those who came before you, including Vicky-T and myself, so,” Gabe said sharply, his pointed finger tracking around the ring of cheerleaders. “Don’t fuck it up or I will cut you.”

On the other side of the room, Cassadee leaned forward with a smile. “Love you too, Gabey.” She even blew a kiss. Kevin gasped silently.

But rather than disciplining her, Gabe just bounded over and messed up her hair. “Keep on flying, Cassy-me-dee, and I love you long time too.”

“Just stay out of his basement,” Spencer said drily as everyone laughed.

“Won’t make that mistake twice,” Brendon hooted from where he was sitting, half-draped over Zack’s back.

Kevin reacted instinctively, curling up a little, trying to make himself even smaller as the catcalling picked up a notch. “Enough,” Victoria said with a roll of her eyes, like she'd heard this all before. “Okay, we have your signatures, so now we own you. Here’s the training schedule. And no skiving -- you live in the cheer dorm now, so not only do we know where you live, but we also have keys.” She handed a stack of papers to the tall guy closest to her, and he started handing them back. “Now let’s talk about how fat you’re not going to get over the summer...” she began to lecture.

Kevin felt Nic kick him lightly in the ankles, and he looked over to grin at her as Victoria moved on to start explaining the terms of their scholarships. Their fees, books, everything paid for. Their gamble had paid off. They wouldn’t be skulking back with their tails between their legs, for this year at least.

“Jonas, Anderson, a word,” Victoria said as everyone got up to leave, joking and laughing about their plans for the remains of the summer.

“Yes, coach?” Kevin asked after the room has emptied and it was just the three of them.

She smiled tightly. “I heard you three-C kids were polite. Hope you rub off on these fuckers and not the other way around.” Her eyes narrowed at Kevin’s guarded expression, and she sighed as she perched herself elegantly on the edge of a desk. “So, given that you’re here, I’m guessing the rumours are true?” She barely waited for their curt nods. Kevin tried not to wince at the thought of what had happened becoming gossip fodder for the entire cheer circuit. “Okay, two questions. One - am I going to regret taking you two onto my team?”

Kevin glanced back at Nic. “With all due respect, coach,” she said through gritted teeth. “We’re _ex-_ three-C. We owe them nothing now. They didn’t want us, and we didn’t want to be there. We want to be here, at Northeastern.”

Kevin didn’t miss the lightning flick of Victoria’s eyes sideways to Kevin. “We’re not going back,” he added firmly.

Victoria smiled again, a little less guarded. “Well, their loss is my gain. I saw you both stunt at the three-C homecoming. Yes,” she added, laughing a little at their shocked expressions. “I was totally spying. You guys are going to bring a tightness I think our team is lacking, and fuck knows three-C have kicked everyone’s butts in tumbling stunts at Nationals. Well,” she added wryly. “Except for last year.”

Kevin couldn’t meet her eyes. He heard her sigh again. “Anyway, second question. Where are you two living right now?”

Nic’s hand found Kevin’s. “My aunt,” she said quietly. “She lives about an hour away.”

Kevin nodded. “She’s got an enclosed porch that's big enough for camp beds, and the weather’s warm enough now that it’s okay.”

Victoria stood up. “Okay is not acceptable for Cobras,” she told them with a sharpness that belied her soft expression. “Come by the gym later on this afternoon, I’ll get you your keys for the dorm early, and clear it with Pete for you guys to be there over the summer.”

Kevin felt Nic’s fingers squeeze his own. “Thank you, coach,” he said, swallowing down his pride.

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You’re one of us now. We look out for our own. That’s how it works here.”

They waited until Victoria had walked out before they hugged each other. “We’re gonna make it, Kev,” Nic whispered in his ear, and for the first time in months, Kevin thought she might actually be right.

*\o/*

“Hey Mike!” Mike stopped, the rest of the team flowing around him, as Gabe strode down the corridor toward him. “You got a sec?”

“Sure,” Mike said, trying and failing not to feel nervous.

Gabe hustled him into an empty seminar room. “Listen, I just wanted to say welcome to the team.”

“Thanks.”

“You were actually going to be first on our A-reserve list, but they don’t have scholarships.” Mike swallowed, hard. Gabe’s expression hadn’t changed at all.

“Can I ask what made you change your mind?” he said, managing to keep his voice calm and even.

“Bill said something,” Gabe told him, and Mike felt his hands curl into fists. “He said that you don’t give up, you get mad and beat your problems into submission.” Mike blinked, knocked off his building anger by the unexpected statement. “So, let me lay it out for you. You’ve got the basic skills, but to be on the A team, your tumbling needs to go to the next level. We can teach you spotting, but you’re going to need to get fit, fast. And you need to learn to be part of a team. This team. Can you do that?”

Mike swallowed again and nodded sharply. “Yeah. Yeah, I can, and I will.”

Gabe’s smile was like a Cheshire Cat’s, slow and lazy. “Glad to hear it. Because we cut five other people who were just as good as you yesterday. Don’t make me regret picking you.” He stood and patted Mike on his shoulder. “Nice chat. Have a good break. Later, dude.” And just like that, Gabe was gone.

Mike got up more slowly. He paused in the doorway, watching as Victoria walked out of the meeting room. She nodded at Mike curtly as she passed, disappearing around the corner after Gabe. The sound of a door closing had him turning back in time to see two of the other new members, Kevin and that girl he was always with, Nic or something. They were walking the wrong way down the corridor, hand in hand. “Hey,” he called out after them. If Gabe wanted a team player, he’d get one. Mike would just start small first. “Exit’s this way.”

“Thanks,” Kevin said, flashing him a sweet smile as they passed. Mike followed them out, eyes fixed on the way they were holding hands. It wasn’t like the way Bill and Christine held hands, all sweet and lovey-dovey. Nic and Kevin held hands the way a drowning man held onto his rescuer.

Mike tried to ignore the little intrigued spark he felt; whatever was going on with these two, he didn't need to get in-between it. Besides, he had more important things to worry him right now.

The three of them paused at the top of the stairs outside the main doors to the building. “So, I guess I’ll see you guys when practice starts?”

“I look forward to it,” Nic said, and it didn’t sound like a platitude. Mike stayed on the stairs and watched as Kevin and Nic walked around the building and out of sight.

The air was warm, the sun bright. Mike turned his face to the heat, eyes closed for a moment, before he turned toward his dorm room to get his running shoes.

*\o/*

Kevin dragged the one big duffle that held everything he owned right now over the threshold of the house. He wiped his palms on his shirt as a guy about his height stepped out of a side room and walked toward him with a smile. "Hey, you must be Kevin, and Nic, right?" he said, shaking hands with both of them. "I'm Pete, I'm the spirit coordinator. Here are your keys. Victoria filled me in." Kevin looked away; he couldn't quite bear the gentle pity he was seeing in Pete's eyes right now. "Come on up, and I'll show you your rooms for the summer."

Later, after Pete had gone, and the house had once again fallen silent, Kevin drifted down the stairs to the main area. He had had a vague intention to make a sandwich or something, but the fridge was empty, cleaned out, not even cold. Kevin plugged it back in and went to sit at the table.

They'd have to make a shopping list. He sighed; first, they'd have to talk to Victoria about money. He was dreading the thought.

A part of him wished he could just get up, go back home, promise to be a good boy. But he knew he couldn't. Those bridges were well and truly burned.

He leaned back as he felt Nic's hands on his shoulders. "There's no food," he said quietly.

"We'll go grocery shopping. Another adventure," she told him.

Kevin kept his eyes closed. "I'm tired of adventures," he admitted in a whisper.

Nic kissed the top of his head. "I don't believe that. Come on." She dragged him out of his seat and out the door.

*\o/*

The rest of the summer passed in a exhausting blur of exercise and terrifying Youtube videos as Mike tried to prepare himself. On the day listed on his schedule from Victoria, he rode with Bill up the long, curved road toward the cheerleaders’ dorm building, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack where it was looped over his knee. “You don't have to do this,” William said, subdued after a long trip made in near silence.

Mike didn't turn away from the window. “Do you have a couple grand spare? No? Then yeah," he said, pushing his hair off his face. "I kinda do.”

Bill didn't say anything more until he pulled up outside the right dorm. On the sun-parched lawn, two kids in the B-squad were doing simple lifts and handsprings. A small gaggle of women, high ponytails switching across their backs, were bouncing up the stairs dragging heavy cases. “On the plus side,” Bill said, leaning over for a better look. “Hot roomies.”

Mike punched him on principle and got out of the car. “Thanks for the lift. I’ll give you a call later.” He stood on the curb and watched Bill drive off, feeling oddly bereft.

“Hey, newbie,” a guy called out as Mike hauled his bags over the threshold. “Glad to see you.” He clapped Mike on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “I'm Travie, I'll be one of the team captains this year.”

Mike juggled his bags until he had a hand free. “Mike Carden.”

Travie’s grip was punishing as he pumped Mike’s hand. He pulled out a much-folded piece of paper out of his jeans pocket. “You're in, lessee, room five, that’s this way.” He grabbed a key off a board on his way past and tossed it to Mike. Mike almost fumbled it, but managed not to drop anything.

“Let me give you the tour,” Travie said, walking backwards. “This is the common area, TV room, reading room, that we also use for yoga. More often for yoga,” he admitted. “Kitchen,” he added, walking through an open-plan dining area and into an industrial-sized kitchen. “Rule is, you mess it, you clean it. That's everyone's,” he said, pointing to one fridge. “That's for your own stuff, but label it,” he said, pointing to a small one in the corner. “Everything unlabelled is communal. This way.” He pointed down a side passage. “Showers and shit. Girls to the right, guys to the left.” He kept walking, an easy, ground-eating stride.

Mike struggled to keep all his gear together and moving. “Down here we have pain central, otherwise known as our gym and practice area,” Travie said nonchalantly, waving through a set of double doors at the cavernous, sun-drenched space. “Come on,” he said, taking one of Mike's bags off him. “Time to go up.” They ascended a narrow staircase to the second floor. Travis walked Mike past a long series of doors to the last in the hall. “Room five, corner room, lucky fucker,” Travie said, knocking curtly before pushing the door open without waiting. He waved Mike in. “That key opens the main door, the gym door, the locker room door and this door, so don't fucking lose it. First team dinner tonight, be downstairs by six thirty. Later, dude.” With a wave, Travie left Mike standing alone in the middle of the room, surrounded by his baggage.

He blinked, finally catching up with himself. The room was larger than his old dorm, and one side was already clearly occupied – the bed neatly made, books on the desk, a coat hanging on a hangar looped over the closet door handle.

His room mate, whoever it was, looked like he’d been moved in a while. Odd -- he thought everyone started at the same time.

He looked up as the door opened. His eyes widened as he saw the guy from try-outs standing there in nothing but a white towel, his curls damp and springy around his face. He was carrying a wash bag, his other hand holding the towel securely around his waist. “Oh, hi,” he said brightly, tossing his wash bag on his bed. “You're Mike, right? I’m Kevin, we met at try-outs?” he said, his voice lifting, making the statement into a question. Mike nodded in vague recognition as he tried to keep his eyes on Kevin's face. Kevin smiled as he reached out, and Mike shook his hand on instinct. “I just picked a bed, is that okay?”

“That’s fine,” Mike said faintly, struggling to find something to blame for why he was staring at Kevin’s chest. Kevin wasn’t a big guy, but every muscle was toned and defined. A summer spent in training seemed like nowhere near enough, now.

Kevin unselfconsciously pulled a sweatshirt over his head, and Mike turned away, busying himself with lugging his bags toward the other bed as the towel hit the floor. When he let himself look up again, Kevin was grabbing a book out of the pile on his desk. “I’ll let you get settled. See you at dinner.”

Mike breathed out heavily through his nose as Kevin closed the door behind him.

*\o/*

Nic bounded down the stairs and across the beaten rug to throw herself across Kevin’s lap. Kevin lifted his book clear but never lost his place as she sprawled over him, arms and legs akimbo. He just let the book drop back onto her belly and kept reading.

Nic waited patiently until he’d finished the passage and put his bookmark in. “Have you met your roomie?” she asked, kicking her legs idly in the air.

“Mike, that guy who tried out with us, do you remember? I left him unpacking. You?”

She smiled and arched her back until her hair was pooling on the floor. “Cassadee. She was on the squad last year, she seems nice.” She giggled as Kevin lightly tickled her belly. She squirmed and rolled and twisted until she was sitting up in his lap, arms around his neck. “This is going to be a good move for us, Kev, I can feel it.”

Kevin smiled back and kissed her cheek. Now that there were people in the house, it didn't seem so lonely. “All I can feel right now is your bony butt," he teased her. "Go eat a cheeseburger, woman.”

She laughed, squealing as he swatted her lightly, and scampered off toward the growing noise coming from the dining room.

Kevin followed more slowly, unused to this many people in the house after a summer with just a handful of residents. The squad didn’t live together at three-C, and even when they got together to celebrate something, they were never this loud. Kevin edged into the room, skirting the perimeter and staying just slightly beyond the center of the noise.

Nic spotted him from where she was standing, leaning against the table next to Zack. She waved him over, but Kevin shook his head. She scowled at him, but Kevin ducked away.

It was just a lot of people to take in all at once, that’s all. He just needed a moment.

He sensed someone coming to stand beside him, and turned to find Mike looking a little shell-shocked. “Things calm down after O-week, right?” he asked.

“I hope so,” Kevin said, so fervently that Mike barked a short laugh. “I’ve always heard Northeastern was a bit of...well, this, but...” he trailed off, hating how stupid he was sounding.

Mike frowned. “Wait, this is your first year on the squad? I thought...”

“I transferred,” Kevin said quickly. “This is my first year with the Cobras, but not my first as a college cheerleader.”

Mike was looking around. “This is my first everything cheerleading. I only tried out so I could get a scholarship and stay at Northeastern” He turned to Kevin. “So, maybe, given we’re gonna be roomies, you could tell me if I’m doing something stupid.”

Kevin smiled brightly. “Only if you don’t laugh when I’m still getting lost in week six.”

Mike stuck out his hand. “You be my cheerleading guide, I’ll be your NEU guide. Deal?”

“Deal!”

Kevin wasn’t feeling quite as tense as he has been by the time Travie banged his fist on the table and climbed onto his chair. “Welcome, Cobras new and old. I’m Travie, and I’ll be your co-captain along with the ever-charming Maja Ivarrson,” he gestured to a gorgeous blonde to his left, who sketched a little bow, her pinkies sticking up as she held out an imaginary skirt. Kevin had to smile at the performance as Travie continued. “We will be your favouritest bigs in the family. And believe me, we will become family. We will live together, train together, work together...”

“Get drunk together!” someone yelled from the other side of the room to a round of laughter.

“After dinner,” Travie said consolingly. “We’re not having a repeat of your freshman year, Urie.” There was more laughter. Mike and Kevin smiled nervously at each other. “Anyway, food’s up in fifteen, but before that, I want you to introduce yourselves around.” He winked. “There _will_ be a test later.” He was pulled off his chair amid groans, and the noise level in the room started to climb again.

Mike sighed. “Time to mingle.”

“Onwards,” Kevin said, pasting a cheerleader’s smile onto his face.

Side by side, they plunged into the crowd.

*\o/*

“Hit the floor,” Gabe yelled, sounding pissed off. Mike helped Nic up from where she had gone sprawling before dropping to give five pushups with the rest of the guys on the squad.

Again.

Nic was limping off the mat as he staggered to his feet once more. As she sat down, foot elevated so Victoria could ice it, Mike ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and walked in a tight circle, trying to blow off the jittery energy under his skin, as the team reformed to move onto learning their next stunt. Zack scowled at him as he walked past.

He deserved it. It was because of him that Nic had hit the mat three times already today. Gabe’s rule -- that every time a flyer drops, everyone does five pushups - had seemed a joke at first.

Mike was very rapidly changing his mind. He scowled, angry with himself for feeling so tired and worn out, angry that, because he was so slow learning moves, Nic was hurt. Like she could hear what he was thinking, Nic looked up and smiled at him, but it was a weak version of her normal happy grin.

Gabe clapped his hands. “Sloppy, babies, sloppy. Line up, we’re gonna finish with some fast passes.”

Mike went sprawling on his first attempt, tumbling over onto his ass. He picked himself off and tried to walk it off as, on the mat, only two of the next five stuck their passes. Gabe clucked his tongue as he called training to a halt. “This?” he said, waving to the mat as the team all collapsed on the floor. “Is not a championship team. You’ve gotta lift your game before spirit camp, or else you’re gonna be a big fucking embarrassment to the Great Cobra.” With that, he strode out of the room.

Mike nodded as Spencer clapped him on the shoulder in passing. “We all have bad days, dude. Just gotta shake it off.”

Brendon grinned pitifully as he leaned against Spencer’s side. “We’ll get it before camp. I believe.”

“I want to believe,” Mike grumbled, and Brendon’s smile brightened a little.

“Oh, Spence, Spence, let’s do an X-Files marathon! I’ve got the DVDs.” Spence and Brendon staggered off toward the locker room, bickering about Mulder and Scully.

Mike dawdled, watching them all go, before he dumped his hoodie back onto his gym bag and walked back onto the floor.

He was gonna get this.

Taking a deep breath, Mike started his run-up.

*\o/*

“Stop fussing, Kevin,” Nic said, flapping her hands at him. “It’s just wrenched, not even a proper sprain. Ice, rest, I’ll be fine.” She held up a thick book. “I’m just going to lie here til dinner, okay? So, go find someone else to bother.” She laughed as Kevin darted forward to plump her pillows one last time before Cassadee chased him out of their room.

Kevin went out into the hall and down the stairs to his own room and found it empty. Mike hadn’t come back yet. Kevin frowned; he’d been one of the last into the showers. So where was Mike?

With nothing better to do, Kevin drifted downstairs, past the kitchens which smelled of food that didn’t make him homesick, and through the common room where the X-Files theme was blaring from the TV. Someone had made popcorn despite dinner being less than an hour away.

There was no sign of Mike.

Kevin headed up the corridor, wondering if maybe Mike was grabbing some sunshine. He slowed as he heard something hit the mat in the gym. Sliding through the barely-there gap between the double doors, he crept in.

Mike was sprawled on the ground, facing away from the door. Kevin slid into a shadow and watched as Mike grunted to himself as he hauled himself back onto his feet. Stretching up until his spine popped, Mike swung his arms, shaking out his fingers. Kevin knew the signs of someone trying to psyche themselves up. Mike took a running start, throwing himself into a forward tumble that fell apart before he was even halfway through. He landed hard and stayed down, winded, gasping for air.

“Are you okay?” Kevin asked, instinctively stepping onto the mat. The blue material was soft and springy under his bare feet.

Mike looked up at him before letting his head fall back onto the mat with a muted thump. “I can’t do this.”

Kevin kicked him, a light jab of his toes. “Can’t is the enemy of done,” he recited automatically. Mike scowled up at him, and Kevin sighed, extending his hand. “You can't let your brain get in the way of your body,” he explained patiently. “Don’t get into your head. Otherwise you’ll freeze every time.”

“Easy for you to say,” Mike grumbled, sounding pissy and frustrated. “You can do this.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed. “And didn’t we say that you’d help me with Northeastern if I helped you cheer? Well, let me help you cheer.” He held Mike’s gaze until Mike nodded curtly. “Okay, show me what you’ve got.”

He watched and tried not to wince as Mike flailed and fell to the mat, hard. “You need to get tighter. That’s the heart of stunting, tumbling and even the pyramids.” He poked Mike’s belly and made a face. “You’ve got good arm and leg strength, but your core is a mess.” He nodded. “You ever tried Pilates?”

Mike rolled his eyes as he sat up, his legs curling underneath him. “My _mom_ does Pilates.”

Kevin smirked. “Then _your mom_ is probably a better cheerleader than you are at the moment,” he goaded, and was rewarded with an angry, determined look. “I do a floor set every morning, and there’s a Pilates room in the gym on campus. We can go together, if you like, and I’ll show you.”

Mike nodded, his frustration seeping back into his expression. Kevin helped him to his feet again. “In the meantime, let’s break down the move.” He gestured for Mike to follow him to the corner of the mat. “This will feel weird and look stupid,” he warned. “But no-one’s watching. Follow me.” He began doing a series of runs and skips across the floor, corner to corner to corner, mimicking the muscle movements of a tumbling takeoff. He had to fight his body from curling into an actual pass -- that was the last thing Mike needed from him right now. Mike followed like an awkward fledgling, but after a few minutes he began to find his rhythm.

“Keep going,” Kevin called as he fell back to watch Mike more closely, adjusting his stride for a few more passes. “Okay, now do this,” he said, demonstrating a forward roll across the floor. “Get use to making your body curl up.” Mike sighed but didn’t protest as Kevin had him rolling across the floor until he was dizzy. “Faster,” Kevin yelled. “Faster, faster.” With each pass, Mike was on the ground for an ever-briefer fraction of a second. “Bounce it.”

And Mike did a forward flip. He stopped, stunned. “Keep going!” Kevin yelled, laughing as he chased Mike around the mat. Mike took off, whooping as he did three more flips in a row before losing his balance on the fourth, his feet slipping out from under him as he fell onto his butt, hard enough to make the mat bounce.

Kevin giggled and cartwheeled over to land lightly on his knees next to Mike. “We’ll make a tumbler out of you yet, Carden,” he said, lying back with his knees tucked up neatly under him.

“One small flip for man,” Mike joked as he let himself flop down on the mat, his body parallel to Kevin. “Thanks,” he added more softly, reaching over to tap his knuckles lightly against Kevin's.

“No problem,” Kevin brushed it off with a smile.

They lay there in silence for a minute, getting their breath back. “Hey, Kevin,” Mike said at last. “Why’d you transfer to the Cobras? I mean, you’re really good at this, so why’d you...?”

Kevin felt his smile slip, and fought to hold onto it. “I...I changed schools. But...” he veered away from the sudden looming spectre of his parents. “Scholarship, man, same as you.”

There was a weighty pause. Kevin held his breath. “Come on,” Mike said, getting up and holding out his hand to help Kevin to his feet. “I smell food.”

Kevin forced himself to relax as he followed Mike out of the gym.

*\o/*

If Mike heard one more pom-pom joke, someone was going to die. He could probably plead justifiable homicide.

The common room was mostly empty, though Mike could hear Disashi and Maja bickering happily about nothing in the kitchen. He tuned them out and slung himself into the low sofa jammed up under the window, wiggling until his feet were dangling over the armrest. He briefly contemplated smothering himself with a pillow before he settled on just clutching it to his chest.

Fucking Bill.

"Hey." Mike opened one eye to glance at Kevin as he came and sat primly on the edge of one of the armchairs. "You okay?" he asked Mike with real concern.

"Nothing that having an alibi and a shotgun wouldn't fix," Mike said, closing his eye again. "And maybe a good place to hide a body."

"Please, just not under your bed, the smell would get appalling," Kevin joked, and Mike had to laugh.

He held up two fingers. "Scouts honour, no corpses in the room." Kevin nodded, and Mike smiled, feeling better already. He twisted uncomfortably as he felt his phone start to vibrate. Wiggling, he managed to tug it out of his pocket.

Bill's stupid face was smiling at him from the screen. "Hey, fucker," he snapped without too much heat. "Nah, just talking to my friend Kevin... yeah my room-mate, I think I mentioned....” He nodded an apology to Kevin as he got up, and took the conversation out into the corridor. “Anyway, do you feel like being a reasonable human being now?" He glanced up as he saw Kevin cross the hall into the kitchen.

Kevin was still there, though Disashi and Maja had vanished, when Mike came through the archway that linked the common to the kitchen. "Yeah, yeah," he said into the phone, laughing. "Declarations of love and adoration alone are not enough to save you now! Yeah, okay, see you then. Bye." Mike cut the call and nodded at Kevin. "Sorry about that," he apologised, waving the phone in the air before pocketing it.

Kevin's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's cool. I was just gonna…" he gestured toward the stairs.

Mike nodded, feeling a little uneasy all of a sudden. He swallowed hard and tried to hold onto his good mood. "I'm going out, if you want the room to yourself," he offered as he went over and wiped his name off the meal board.

"Not coming back for dinner?" Kevin asked, his voice sounding strained.

Mike smiled and shook his head. Now that Bill had decided to listen to reason, they had an actual shot of finishing that song tonight. "Nah, probably won't be back late. I'll try not to wake you. See you later."

Kevin's soft "Bye" followed Mike down the hall as he headed for the door.

*\o/*


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

*\o/*

Mike followed Nic and Kevin down the steps, and into one of the blocks of seating half-way up the slope of bleachers. Around them, the noise of seemingly hundreds of people chatting at once was deafening. Mike kicked his backpack under his seat, and leaned forward over Nic and Kevin’s shoulders. “Who are all these people?” he half-yelled.

Nic’s grin was toothy as she knelt on her seat to look up at him. “The competition,” she yelled back. “Spirit camp’s where we size each other up.” She began pointing out blocks of people, linked by the colours of their uniform sweatshirts. “That’s the Louisiana Tigers, and over there, the white and blue, that’s Mem-Chris – they're pretty tight, but not very original. Down in front of them, that’s the Lancer Hellcats – they've got some kick-ass tumblers. Over there,” her finger swung around to the bottom of their own bleacher. “There’s the SFA Lumberjacks, and...” her finger drooped in the air. "Oh," she exclaimed in sudden shock.

Mike leaned forward, frowning. “The grey and green, who are they.”

It was Kevin who answered. “That’s the Mouses.” His voice was unreadable, and he ducked to rummage through his backpack. “Our old squad.”

“Oh,” Mike said softly. In the short time that they’d been roommates, Mike hadn’t gotten the whole story, but he’d gotten the basics thanks to locker room gossip. Kevin had been the star of his old team, one of the competition, the one to beat. Then, he’d left his old team, right before Nationals. Mike still hadn’t heard why, and the chance to ask Kevin had never come up.

In front of him, Nic stiffened and elbowed Kevin. He looked up, and she nodded down silently. Even from behind, Mike saw Kevin's back stiffen as he saw what Nic had spotted. Mike tried to follow his eye line, and saw two young guys looking back up. The smaller one nudged his friend, and together, they deliberately turned away.

Kevin sighed, slumping like the air had been let out of him. He rubbed his face as Nic soothingly petted his arm. “Hey, it’ll be okay, they’ll come round,” she said so softly Mike could barely hear her.

Kevin shook his head. “They usually go to the camp at Mornington. Why are they here?” he all but wailed.

Mike had no idea what to say, or whether he could say anything at all. Nic and Kevin had retreated again into their own little world again, one that he didn't know how to enter.

Cassadee, Bebe, Spencer, and Brendon squished in next to Mike, dumping their stuff at their feet. “Hey guys,” Brendon said loudly to Travie, Disashi, Ryland and Maja, who had piled into the row behind. “Did you hear? We’ve got all the godsquads - Mornington cancelled their camp after their gym sprung some serious leaks.”

Bebe snorted in derision. “I heard it’s more an indoor swimming pool than a gym now.” Cass elbowed her in the ribs, hard, and nodded frantically toward Kevin. Bebe’s eyes widened even as she winced.

Mike glanced down, but Kevin was digging aimlessly through his pack, resolutely not looking at any of them. Nic was watching him like a hawk. Beside him, Spencer and Brendon began tussling over a Capri Sun. Mike looked down the rows of seating again to where Kevin’s old squad was gathered in a ragged huddle, ‘Cambio Christian College’ picked out in cursive sewn silver across the back of their hoodies.

He slouched down in his seat as loud, electronic music began blaring out of the speakers and the camp began with the camp counsellors prancing out on stage to start a routine. He watched, sinking even lower in his seat as they performed stunt after flawless stunt.

He had the very strong sense that the next four days were going to suck. A lot.

*\o/*

Kevin dragged his feet as the camp director called all the teams down onto the stadium floor for their first session. He was grateful but a little embarrassed how Nic had plastered herself to one side, and Mike was keeping easy step with him on the other. When Travie clapped his hands and pushed the team through to stand on almost the complete opposite side of the group from the Mouses, embarrassment started to win out.

Nic tugged on his hand. “Shh, it’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,” she whispered sternly.

“Okay,” the camp director boomed through the PA system. “I want you all to go out and introduce yourself to someone you don’t know. Shake hands.” Kevin took a deep, steadying breath, and dove into the mess of uniform colours. He spotted someone in Jaguars-yellow and made a bee-line.

“Hi, I’m Kevin,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Tumbler.”

“Tyrone. I’m a base,” the Jag replied, shaking his hand.

The camp director kept the groups moving, doing a different ice-breaker with each new introduction. Kevin passed Mike in the flow, and almost laughed at Mike’s bitter, pained expression as the voice over the PA instructed them to do a particularly silly icebreaker exercise.

Mike hadn’t believed Kevin when he’d explained what happened in the opening sessions. Kevin would almost feel sorry for him if his expression wasn’t so funny.

Kevin turned away toward the person now in front of him, and froze as he came face to face with Nick for the first time since his world had exploded. “Hey, Nicky,” Kevin said softly.

Nick’s eyes widened, and he grabbed Chelsea and hauled her with a squeal over to swap places with him. Nick looked up at the guy Chelsea had been talking to, his back firmly to Kevin.

Kevin felt his heart re-break along barely patched faultlines once again. “Hey,” Chelsea said softly, touching his forearm. “You okay?”

He tried to smile, but he knew it was wavering, his eyes filling with tears. He willed them away ruthlessly, and managed to keep his voice steady. “Fine. You look great, Chels, I love the new hair.”

She self-consciously primped her sleek new bob. “Thanks.” She looked up at him, smiling sadly. “How are you? And Nic? We heard you got into the Cobras? Are they treating you okay?” Her smile wavered and then shattered, and she flung her arms around him for a brief hug. Over her shoulder, Kevin could see some of his old teammates glaring at them with furious expressions. Kevin ducked his head into her shoulder so he didn't have to see, and hugged her back. “I miss you and Nic,” she mumbled into his chest. “So much.”

“Careful,” Kevin said, trying for joking and falling flat. “That’s a hanging offense, isn’t it?”

She pulled back slowly, and didn’t deny it. “They’ll come round,” she said, not sounding convinced. “Don’t give up on them just yet.”

“They gave up on me, Chels,” Kevin said, letting go of her hand as the announcer called for them to move on. “They gave up first.” He pecked a kiss to her cheek before the press of cheerleaders separated them.

*\o/*

“Camp is fucking weird,” Mike declared as he walked into the communal showers for their floor.

“Careful, man,” Disashi said, spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. “We can lose points for the Spirit trophy if people hear you say that.” But he was grinning when he looked up to meet Mike's eyes in the mirror.

Mike flipped him off and dumped his washbag down on the counter. “Bite me. Seriously, learning to yell and clap?”

Spencer laughed and scrubbed his beard with a towel. “Aw, listen to the newbie pout. Dude, first full day’s tomorrow. Trust me; you’re going to be begging to go back to hand-clapping class.”

Disashi was giggling. “And by day three, you’ll want to take napping class, where they show you the correct technique for putting your head on a pillow.”

Mike scowled and grabbed a towel, heading for the showers. When he came back out, only Brendon was there, already in his PJs, brushing his teeth. “Hey,” he said through a mouthful of foam. He spat and rinsed, wiping his mouth with the corner of the towel slung around his shoulders. “How’s Kevin?”

Mike looked down so Brendon wouldn’t see his scowl in the reflection. “He’s with Nic,” he said, not quite keeping all the bitterness out of his voice. All afternoon, Kevin had moved like there was a wall around him, and Nic was the only one who could get close. Mike hadn’t seen them at all since training had ended. He had looked, but in the end had given up. Besides, he had no idea what he would say.

Their entire friendship to date had been bounded by those damn walls Kevin carried around with him. Mike didn't really know why he wanted to get past them, but he did. Desperately.

“I didn’t realize...” Brendon said softly, trailing off. He frowned, a faraway look in his eye for a moment before he caught Mike staring. “Tomorrow will be better,” Brendon said briskly, turning away. “We’ll be working in our teams again.” He spat one last time. “Night.”

“Night,” Mike said distractedly. His reflection looked befuddled, hair sticking up in all directions. He scrubbed the towel through it once before giving up and schlepping back to the room.

Kevin was back, sitting cross-legged on the covers, reading a book. He looked up as Mike came in, and Mike was relieved to see that some of the stress around Kevin’s eyes had eased, though he still looked too tired. “Hey,” Kevin said, putting his book down.

Mike took the invitation to talk. “Hey. You okay?”

Kevin grimaced. “Man, was I that bad? You’re the fifth person in an hour to ask me that.”

“Well,” Mike said as he crawled onto his bed and sat with his back to the wall. “We’re ‘family,’” he said in his best Travis impression. Kevin choked a weak laugh. “And it must have sucked, seeing your old team while wearing your new colours,” he added.

Kevin looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Yeah, there is that,” he said so drily that Mike had to smile. “Oh well,” he added, taking a deep breath. “Would have had to have happened sooner or later. They’re in Div 1A, too, so,” he shrugged like that explained all. “Nationals.”

“Nationals,” Mike echoed. There was nearly a whole year to go, yet it was all everyone seemed to talk about. Mike shifted uncomfortably. “Listen, tell me to shut up, but I saw you when we had to meet the other teams. What happened, to make them react like that?”

Kevin’s eyes were downcast, his expression a little bitter but mostly wistful. “I...I announced I was switching teams,” he said, smiling like he’d heard a bad joke. “And that’s just not allowed at Three-C.”

Mike felt like something had just left contrails over his head. Before he could find the words to ask, the door banged open. “Hey guys,” Ryland said, leaning in, shoving popcorn into his mouth from a bowl cradled against his chest. “We’ve taken over the TV lounge and beaten off all comers, so Star Wars marathon in five.”

Kevin leapt up and followed Ryland out. “You coming?” he asked brightly, all traces of their previous conversation erased. Mike sighed; there was that wall again. But Kevin was smiling, standing in the doorway, waiting for him.

Mike nodded as he got up and followed him back to their team.

*\o/*

Kevin sighed in relief as he realized, looking over the schedule, that the camp had been split into rotations. It had been hard yesterday, seeing Nick and Joe, and harder still when they pretended like he wasn’t even there.

He nodded his readiness as Brendon clapped him on the shoulder, and filed out with the other onto the practice mat. “Okay,” the camp leader said, clapping her hands. “You guys have an hour. We want you to come up with a tumble sequence that includes each of these moves.” Kevin watched, making mental notes as the leaders demonstrated eight sequences. “You can pick your own music, or none at all. What we’ll be looking for is tight, precise sequences and innovative transitions.” She clapped her hands again. “Go!”

The team went into a huddle, quickly sketching out a plan. As they lined up on either side of the mat, Kevin saw Mike looking around. Kevin hoped Mike would be able to keep up -- they’d had a couple of weeks before spirit camp to get settled on the mat, but even so, Mike was catching up on stuff the rest of the team had had years to master.

He exhaled as he stepped onto the mat, arms outstretched as he moved into the first pass. Gabe had put him in the front line with Brendon and Ashlee with one instruction: “floor it.”

Brendon was beaming as he tumbled past at high speed. Kevin laughed as he flipped onto his finish spot on the far end of the mat and looked over the rest of the stunt. Mike, Ian, and Surez were in the second row, going slower. Kevin grinned as Mike finished with a round off, panting hard but smiling, flushed with his own success. When he looked up, Kevin waggled his eyebrows and made Mike laugh.

There was a whoop from Gabe, and everyone turned to watch as Zack threw Nic into a reverse Superman. Kevin had to clap as he put he delicately back onto the mat. Some of her hair had escaped it’s pony tail, and thin dark strands were lashed across her flushed cheeks. She bounced on her toes, the mat making her spring extra-high, as she turned and flung her arms as far as they would reach around Zack.

Zack’s hand wrapped around her back easily as he hugged her in return, squeezing her tight. “Nice!” Gabe called out, clapping his hands. “Great work everyone, let’s make it excellent! Again!”

Every muscle in his body was aching by the time the official programme ended for the day. Kevin stayed where he was on the edge of the mat, too tired to move as everyone else staggered out of the gym, heading back to the dorms. All day, he’d been able to focus just on the moves, but now, he was once again hyper-aware that, somewhere close by, Nick and Joe were together and pretending he no longer existed.

“Hey,” Mike said, dropping to lie in a heap on the mat beside him. “You weren’t joking about this, were you?”

“I always joke. I’m _hi-_ larious,” Kevin drawled back, earning himself a poke in the thigh. “You did good today.”

“Oh, was that a joke too?” Mike said, stretching along the mat until his back arched. Kevin felt his mouth go dry as he saw the thin sliver of toned stomach appear in the gap between Mike’s shirt and shorts. He looked away, staring at his own bony and bruised knees. “Thanks, by the way," Mike added. "I may still be the worst in the team, but at least I wasn’t a complete embarrassment today.”

Kevin grinned, and said nothing.

“Oh fuck you,” Mike said, laughing as he rolled over to hit him in the arm. “This is about that fucking stag tuck, isn’t it? I maintain that the human body just isn’t meant to bend like that, and you and Brendon are freaks of nature.”

Kevin couldn’t let that pass. He rolled and pounced, pinning Mike to the ground and tickling him. A part of his brain was screaming ‘warning, warning,’ but it was _good_ to just laugh and wrestle and be _normal_ again.

“Uncle! Mercy!” Mike cried through his laughter as he flailed under Kevin. The movement made Kevin realize suddenly how they must look.

He jumped to his feet, cheeks burning, before he embarrassed himself. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand as Mike lay there, staring owlishly up at him. “Let’s work on your tucks.”

Mike’s hand was warm and strong in his as he let Kevin pull him to his feet.

*\o/*

Mike sat with the rest of the squad, pressing a melting ice pack into his shoulder, wondering if he should just quit before Gabe threw him off the team. Though it’d be kind of embarrassing, even for him, to lose his scholarship before the school year even officially began.

So he swore, so what? His shoulder had felt like it had almost been wrenched out of its socket, what was he supposed to do?

The rest of the team were scowling at him. Even Nic looked upset, though she’d tried not to let it show.

Mike shuffled on his seat as the camp director tapped the microphone. “Was it really that bad?” he asked the only person who’d sit next to him.

Kevin was nervously lacing his fingers together on his knees. “We’re _cheerleaders_ , Mike,” he whispered under the noise of the closing ceremony. “You could break both your legs out there and you’d still be expected to smile and wave.” He snorted. “Heck, a girl once broke her _back_ at a college game, and kept cheering.”

“You’re shitting me,” Mike said flatly.

Kevin shook his head, and Mike knew he was telling the truth. “It’s part of the competition. Who has the best game face, the best _spirit_ ,” he said slowly. “It’s the biggest award of the camp.”

Mike started to get a sinking feeling in his gut. “How big?”

Kevin didn’t look up from where his fingers were twisting together. “Paid bid to Nationals,” he whispered. Mike gasped and cursed -- that was thousands of dollars, no wonder everyone was so pissed. “Sorry,” Kevin said, wincing. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to be even more stressed out about your stunting than you already were. Sorry.”

Mike clenched his fists, trying to get his temper under control. His wrenched shoulder twinged painfully with the movement. “I wish you’d told me,” he said quietly, mentally trying to figure out how to make tuition without the scholarship.

Kevin sighed. “The Cobras took out Nationals last year, so that’s automatic qualification,” he said like someone looking desperately for the bright side. “And there’s still the bid video to get the free ride, or fundraising.” He looked up, finally, and Mike winced at how pale and somber he looked. “Oh, here,” he tsked, taking the icepack and pressing it firmly right into the sorest spot. “Come on,” he coaxed, hand strong and gentle where he was holding Mike’s arm. “Not winning spirit just means no express route. Nationals isn’t in danger.”

Mike tried to remember Kevin’s words as Cambio Christian College took out ‘Most Spirited.’ The little guy who had freaked Kevin out was smiling tightly as he accepted the trophy. Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw Kevin’s hands twitch, then still. He stood up as soon as the announcer closed the camp, ready to run and hide and lick his wounds.

“Yo, Carden, Jonas, get your asses over here,” Travie said, waving them over. Mike crept in closer, wanting to be anywhere but there. “Okay, listen up. Most of you have been here before, this is just our wakeup call. We’re still finding our fit as a new team, and now we know what the competition is packing. We’ve still got our entry, and we’ve got four months to get our shit together for bid.” He looked around the group, and Mike was a little startled to see Travie look him right in the eye. “But I’m real happy with camp. I think we’ve got the kind of kickass talent to get us another Nationals. All in, fuckers.” He jabbed his hands forward, fingers of his right fanning out over the curve of his left. “Cobras Never Die!”

Mike chanted along with the others, still disorientated by the rapid change in attitude. He nodded blankly as the rest of the team filed past, several asking about his shoulder. Finally, it was just him and Travie. “Kevin told me you didn’t know what exactly the ‘cheer’ part of ‘cheerleading’ meant,” he said, sounding more amused than pissed. “We can work on that.”

Mike nodded quickly. “Won’t happen again, Travie.”

Travis beamed at him. “Of course it won’t, 'cos we’re gonna remind you of this every day for the next year.” He laughed as Mike groaned. “Come on, get your shit. Time for the best part of camp.” He winked. “The after-camp pool party.”

* \o/*

Kevin held onto his untouched bottle of beer, and let his feet drift in the crystal blue water of the pool. A few of the flyer/base pairs from some of the other teams were playing some kind of game in the shallows, making the water ripple slightly as they splashed about. Over in the other, shallower pool, a few girls were kicking up splashes of water as they danced to the music the DJ was playing, and another team were hazing their newbies with some kind of conga line while wearing garbage bags and nothing else. But up here at the deep end, in the shadow of the modest rockery feature, all was quiet.

Kevin watched the party for a little while, smiling as he saw Nic laughing and chatting to some of the other flyers. As he watched, Zack swapped her empty bottle for a fresh drink, but he seemed to be keeping an eye on her, so Kevin wasn’t too worried.

Besides, Nic had been sneaking out to clubs since she was old enough to use her fake ID. Even if some of the stories they had been told about the post-camp pool party were true, Nic was probably going to be fine.

Kevin wasn’t so sure about himself.

“Hey,” a girl giggled at him as she walked by with a couple of her friends, all tanned legs, long hair, and tiny bikinis. Kevin absently nodded his own greeting as they passed him by, swishing his feet through the water some more.

“Not in the party mood?” Kevin looked up and smiled more easily as Mike emerged from the shadows. “Is this a private mope, or can anyone join in?”

“I’m not moping,” Kevin protested, even as he shuffled along the edge of the pool to make room. “I’m...contemplating.”

Mike’s laugh turned into a hiss of pain as he put too much weight on his injured shoulder. “I’m okay,” he said before Kevin could ask. “It’ll be fine in a day or two, just gotta not swear about it until then.”

“You’re a big boy, I’m sure you’ll manage,” Kevin teased, splashing a little water up at Mike.

He sputtered as he tried to bat the droplets away. “Oh, feeling the love, Jonas, feeling the love.” They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, watching the party. “I take it you’re not a big partier?”

Kevin shrugged. “I guess, maybe, I don’t know. I never really went out much, at my last school.”

“Three-C, right?” Mike remembered. “Yeah, they don’t seem like the kegger crowd.”

Kevin bit back a laugh. “Definitely not a kegger crowd. More abstinence and Sunday services.”

Mike glanced instinctively at his watch - 1:03am. “Well, it’s Sunday morning and you’re at a party with a beer in your hand,” he said, nodding to the untouched drink. “Congratulations, you’ve officially fallen in with us sinners.”

Kevin made a choking noise. “My father would be so proud,” he said, more bitterly than he intended as he reached out and tapped his bottle lightly against Mike’s in a toast. He took a swig, grimacing at the warm, bitter taste. Mike laughed, and Kevin poked him. “Shut up,” he muttered. He watched as Mike took a drink of his own beer. “Are you taking something for your shoulder?” he asked worriedly.

Mike rolled his eyes fondly. “Don’t worry, I’m not mixing my meds or operating heavy machinery.” He studied Kevin for a moment. “You really need to learn how to relax and have fun, Kevin.”

“Do I?” Kevin asked sarcastically.

Mike smiled, and Kevin felt his heart skip a beat. “You do. Luckily, I am an expert and am willing to share my vast knowledge.” He put aside his beer, and Kevin instinctively copied him. “The first thing you need to learn is to let go and live in the moment.”

Kevin laughed. He wasn’t ready when Mike pushed him into the water, but instinct took over and he grabbed Mike as he flailed, pulling him in too.

Mike surfaced, spluttering and laughing. Kevin tread water, still a little stunned. Mike spit a thin stream of water at him, and Kevin sculled backwards out of range, laughing. Mike nodded down toward the shallow end, where Maja and Cassadee were laughing and splashing everyone else from their perches on top of Travis and Spencer’s shoulders. “I saw we can take them. What do you reckon?”

Mike swam with graceful speed toward the shadows. Kevin grinned as he hummed the _Jaws_ theme and paddled after him.

*\o/*

Mike wondered when _exhausted_ had become his default state. Ever since they’d gotten back from spirit camp, he felt like all he’d been doing was playing catch-up. He bolted across the common room, stealing a piece of toast off Nic’s plate. Her cry of “you owe me a poptart for that, Carden,” followed him down the hall as he raced out of the house and took the steps two at a time.

He was so very, very late.

The professor scowled at him as he slipped through the back door of the lecture room, and Mike slouched down into his seat and dug out his notepad. A nine am class after a late-night stunt practice was his new definition of torture.

The class finally let out an hour later. Mike blinked at the mess of incomprehensible notes and realised he hadn't heard a word of it. He jammed his notepad into his bag, and let the flow of students carry him toward the Union. Bill was lounging in one the overstuffed chairs under the window, reading a paper. He barely looked up as Mike dropped his pack on the table, and slumped down next to him. “You look like a man in need of coffee.”

Mike made a pitiful noise.

“I’ll have my usual latte, thank you, Michael.”

Mike stared at him.

They both jumped as someone dropped a tray on the table next to him. “You are a slack bastard,” Sisky told Bill, handing him a take-out cup. “And you just look pathetic,” he told Mike. “Is living in a house full of gorgeous cheerleaders getting you down?”

Mike was too busy clutching his cup to argue. “You’re a lifesaver, Siskybiz.”

William finally lowered his paper. “What? No sarcastic retort? No biting remark?” He peered closer. “You do look peaky,” he said, actually sounding almost concerned.

Mike sipped his coffee and let his head fall back, eyes closed. He had an hour until next class, he could nap until then, surely. They were in a public place, so the odds of Sisky and Bill writing on his forehead in permanent marker were low.

Probably.

He jerked away, almost spilling his coffee, as he felt gentle fingers lifting up the sleeve of his t-shirt. “That’s a big bruise,” Bill said, and all teasing was gone now.

Mike made a face. He’d forgotten about it, but now that Bill reminded him, it had started to throb again. “I fucked up a stag tuck. Kevin tried to catch me, but I still hit pretty hard.” He scowled into his cup. “Just when I thought I was getting that fucker down, too.”

Bill looked to Sisky. “Did that make sense to you?”

Sisky made a whistling noise as he waved his hand slowly over his head.

Mike shook his head and stood up. “Cheerleading shit,” he said.

William rolled his eyes. “Oh of course.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mike asked hotly.

Bill leaned back and put his feet up on the table. “It means," he said gently. "That all you seem capable of talking about is cheerleading, cheerleading, Kevin, how little sleep you’ve had, and more cheerleading. That’s all.”

Mike laughed bitterly. “Bill, I get up, go to the gym, go to class, go to practice, and then go to bed. That is my life now, excuse me if it’s not glamorous enough for you.”

“Aww,” Sisky cooed. “Is living in a house full of pretty, athletic women getting you down?” Mike raised one eyebrow pointedly. “Oh, sorry. Pretty men, too.” This time, it was William who gave him a pointed look. “So I’m told. Hey, I’m secure, shut up, this is about Mike right?” he said quickly.

Mike snorted a laugh. “Guys,” he said tiredly. “Even if I had the time to date, I sure as fuck don’t have the energy. And as for the house, well...” Thinking of the house reminded him of something, and he sighed as he reached for his bag. “Listen, I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later.”

“Go where?” Bill asked.

Mike slung his pack over his good arm. “I need to go to the store before class. See you.”

Later, Nic bounded up to him on the mat, her dark pony tail bobbing behind her. She sprung up, hands balanced lightly on his shoulders, as she pecked a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for my pop tarts,” she said, giggling as she skipped back to Zack. A few people were watching, but they shook their heads and turned back to their tasks.

Mike smiled a little to himself as he went back to his stretches.

*\o/*

Kevin was sitting, propped up against his headboard, struggling to stay focused on the textbook on his lap, when the door banged open, and Nic came canonballing in. Kevin threw out his arms for balance as Nic landed, making the old mattress bounce and sway.

“KevinKevinKevin!” Nic babbled at high speed as she crawled up and threw herself against him, hugging him tightly.

“Nic, Nic, Nic,” he parroted back at her, dropping his book to hug her back. She was almost vibrating, and Kevin nudged her to get her attention. “What’s going on?”

Nic sat back, and her face was aglow. “Zack asked me if I wanted to go in with him in a partner stunt bid! Isn’t that awesome!”

Kevin relaxed, and beamed back at her. “That is awesome,” he reassured her. Nic was so excited she was bouncing up and down slightly on the spot. “You guys are amazing, you’ll totally get a bid.”

Worry clouded Nic’s face. “You think so? Oh, honey, I really, really want this.”

Kevin gathered her up into his arms. “I know, I know,” he soothed her. “And I think that this is your year.”

Nic settled herself more comfortably on his lap. “Our year,” she corrected gently. “I really think we have a chance to take out both partner stunt and coed 1A. Is that stupid?”

Kevin rested his temple against the side of her head gently. “No. I don’t think it is.” He hadn’t said it out loud, but tumbling with the Cobras felt better, even after just a few months of training, than it ever had in a couple of years with the Mouses. He didn’t have to overthink his moves, or worry, or hold back. All he had to do was let go and fly.

Nic was studying him like she could read his mind. “You seem better here,” she told him in a secretive whisper. “Happier.”

Kevin thought about it for a second. “I think I am.” He smiled at her. “I mean, it hurts, so bad, not to be able to go home, that Nick and Joe won’t even look at me. But at the same time,” he shrugged, struggling to find the right words.

But he and Nic hadn’t been best friends since playgroup for nothing. “It’s a weight off,” she said, and it wasn't a question.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “No more secrets.”

Nic hugged him again as the door opened, spilling bright light in from the hallway across Kevin's bed. “Oh, hey,” Mike stuttered, frozen in the doorway, sounding flustered as he saw them both on the bed. “I can come back...”

“No, it’s okay,” Nic told him, swinging her leg up and over to slip gracefully onto her feet. “I was just claiming my congratulatory cuddles,” she said, beaming. “And now I have practice, I’ll see you both later.” She patted Mike’s chest as she slipped past him.

“Fly, my pretty,” Kevin cackled after her. Her laughter echoed down the hall.

Mike carefully closed the door after her. “Listen, man,” he said, sounding strained. He didn't meet Kevin's eye. “If you want the room, just, I don’t know, put a sock on the handle or something.”

Kevin frowned, confused for a moment. “Oh,” he said, realization dawning. He began to laugh awkwardly. “Dude, she’s just my best friend. Nothing more, I swear.”

“Okay, whatever,” Mike said, not looking very convinced. He walked over to his desk and began pulling book after book out of his bag.

Kevin resettled himself, shuffling back up against the headboard, stretching his legs out. “Are you doing the library weight-lifting scheme or something?” he asked to break the sudden tension in the room.

Mike scowled and ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand up on end. “Who assigns a research essay in the first half of semester?”

“Sadists,” Kevin told him, standing up. He walked over and stood beside Mike, their arms brushing as he read the spines. “Man, rather you than me.”

Mike slung an arm around Kevin and hugged him in. He had no idea why, except that it felt like the thing to do. “Your concern is overwhelming, Jonas,” he said sarcastically, messing up Kevin’s hair to coverup his sudden awkwardness.

Kevin felt himself freeze, and the moment turned fragile. “That’s me,” he said, sounding strained. “Mr. Compassion. I want a snack, do you want a snack, I’m going to go get some snacks.” He beat a hasty retreat, feeling Mike staring at him in confusion.

Kevin closed their door carefully, and walked across the hall to brace himself against the far wall. “He’s your roommate,” he told himself. “You’re just lonely, and he’s nice, and it’s all in your head.” After repeating that several times until he could almost believe it, he took a deep breath, pasted a suitable smile on his face, and went downstairs to raid the kitchen.

*\o/*

Mike pulled on his uniform shirt, and scowled at his reflection. Travie clipped him upside the head as he passed behind Mike. “Smile, fucker,” he said sternly, moving on before Mike could retaliate.

A few lockers down, Brendon was bouncing on his toes. “Are you nervous?” he asked, a big smile on his face.

Mike slammed his locker closed. “Should I be?” he snapped, hating that Brendon was probably right.

“Depends,” Spencer said from where he was sitting on the bench, double-tying his shoelaces. “Are you planning on faceplanting in the mud in front of ten thousand screaming football fans?”

Mike felt his stomach twist. “I fucking hate you, Smith,” he said bluntly. On top of the idea of people he knew seeing him out there, he now had that to worry about too.

Brendon burst out into peals of laughter. “Don’t worry, Mikey,” he cooed, linking his arm with Mike’s. “They applaud extra-loud when we crash.” The entire room burst out into laughter.

Gabe walked in, clapping his hands for attention, a clipboard tucked under his arm. “Okay you fuckers, come on.” Mike fell in behind Ian as they walked out into the tunnel that led onto the field. The girls were already there, legs looking long and tanned under their tiny pleated skirts.

“Who chose purple and grey as the squad colours?” he asked, feeling a sudden craving for a grape soda.

Cassadee nudged him in the arm as she wound her way over to Spencer. “Gabe did, so act like you like it,” she said with a grin.

Mike dutifully shut his mouth as Gabe hollered at them to put in. He reached in, resting one hand on Kevin’s shoulder for balance as their fingertips formed a messy ring. “Cobras never die! Cobras gonna fly!” they all chanted together, breaking the circle.

Walking out onto the field for the first time was a bizarre experience. The team paused just under the overhang, waiting for the signal. “Everyone,” Travie called out. “Smile like you mean it! Ready, go!”

Like a switch had been flipped, the team ran forward, whooping and cheering. Some even starting doing simple running flips and tumbles. Mike just ran, focusing on keeping pace with the team and not tripping over his own feet or something. They formed up into rows in front of their section of the stadium, and Mike looked up the tier, head tilting backwards to take it all in.

Kevin knocked his knuckles against Mike’s wrist. “You okay?” he said under the noise of the rest of the team whooping it up.

Mike nodded desperately as Travie yelled at them to get into position for the first stunt.

The grass was slick underfoot, and it was easier for him just to concentrate on not fucking up in front of everyone. The cheering from the stands got louder as they ran simple but flashy passes. Brendon started running around, weaving between the bases as they lifted their flyers into Awesomes and Scorpions. Travie yelled at him, but he was laughing as he did so, and Brendon cackled gleefully as he skipped and tossed a spinning tumble sequence that landed him neatly back where he should be right on the beat.

The siren sounded and the team hunkered down on the sidelines, the girls scooping up their plastic pom-poms, as the two football teams lumbered onto the field. Mike knelt between Kevin and Nic, laughing as Nic playfully snapped her pom-poms at him. “Now for the boring bit,” she said with an eyeroll as the ref blew his whistle.

Mike had only had a passing interest in college football; it was mainly just something he and his dad talked about when they had nothing more to say to each other. He’d only been to one game before, sitting way up in the nose-bleed seats. Watching at ground level was way better. He found, despite himself, that he was getting into it, clapping and cheering with the rest of the squad when their side made a pass or scored a touch-down.

“What do we want? Touch-Down! When do we want it? Now!” Ashlee started yelling, leading the group in the cheer. Behind him, Dallon jabbed Mike in-between his shoulderblades.

“Yell, newbie,” he said, clapping along. “It’s good practice!” Mike swung his elbow back, and Dallon laughed as he fell into Spencer trying to dodge it. Spencer shoved him back upright with a laugh.

The crowd grew restless as, late in the first half, the sky started to grumble. Beyond the glow of the floodlights, Mike could just make out clouds rolling in, bringing with them the threat of an unseasonably early storm.

The first drops started to fall as the siren blared again, signalling the start of half-time. “No flying if it starts to pour,” Travie ordered as they filed out onto the field. Mike felt goosebumps rise up his arms as a cold, wet gust of air blew across the field. Along the row, Greta jumped on the spot as Ashlee rubbed her arms, her pom-poms rustling.

“Ready!” Maja yelled. “Let’s go!”

The clouds opened on cue, water pouring out of the sky as they began their spirit routine. “No flying,” Travie yelled again as Brendon went skidding on the wet grass. He bounced up, laughing.

“Slip n’ slide,” he hollered, taking a running start and skidding across the pitch. He bounded up, mud on his hands. Greta squealed with delight as he reached for her, leading her across the front of their section in a dance that was half-waltz, half-seizure.

After that, madness took over. Mike laughed as Kevin looked at him, and together they rolled into the cartwheel to handspring routine they used to warm up. Bebe giggled and dropped easily into a bendback between them, flipping up into a handspring as they came down. The stands were emptying as the spectators sought shelter from the rainstorm, but still the squad cheered.

When the siren signalled the start of the second half, Mike wasn’t the only one with muddy hands and knees. The squad piled together in a clump rather than kneel in their neat rows, seeking warmth from each other as the rain passed, leaving the air colder than before.

The game ended in a loss, but Travie didn’t seem to mind as he led the squad back into the locker rooms under the stadium. “That was so much _fun_!” Cassadee chirped as she wrung water out of her hair.

Mike was cold, wet, and muddy. But as Nic hugged him from the side, headbutting his arm, and Brendon held up a mud-covered hand for a high-five, he secretly had to agree.

*\o/*

Kevin looked up as the heavy bass beat started thumping down through the building. "Already?" he asked no-one in particular.

Alex smirked as he straightened his skinny tie and checked his hair in the mirror. "The Cobras post-first game bash is a time-honoured tradition."

"Meaning," Spencer said from where he was sitting on the bench. "Gabe started it when he was squad captain, and there's no way he's going to let us drop it now." He stood and basketed his dirty towel in the hamper. "Hurry up, you don't want to miss this," he told Kevin as Alex opened the door.

Kevin nodded agreeably, waiting until the door closed behind them before he turned and headed for the showers. The room was steamy and damp after twenty-plus showers, but Kevin didn't mind being the last in. The water was still hot, and there was no-one else around.

He had tried, really tried, not to let David and Doug's flung insults get to him, but every time Kevin went into the shared showers, he still heard their voices in his head, sneering, angry, accusing him of looking. Of being a pervert.

The mud had mostly dried on his skin, flaking and cracking along the creases. Kevin scrubbed at it until his skin was pink, the dirt spiralling between his feet and into the drain. He froze, soap a mess of lather in his hands, as he heard the door open, a cold gust of air blowing against his legs. "Hey," Mike said casually, taking another showerhead halfway down. "I thought you'd already be at the party?"

Kevin kept his eyes firmly on the tiles, those old recriminations echoing through his head, as Mike tossed his towel over one of the low partitions and turned the taps. "Uh, just needed to get all this mud off first," he said, blindly groping for his shampoo. He needed to get cleaned up and get out of here without looking.

That was important. Especially because it was _Mike_ , naked under the steam just a few feet away. Mike who was his _friend_ , nothing more. He chanted it like a mantra in his head as his nails raked quickly over his scalp, the shampoo dribbling down, stinging his eyes. Kevin shoved his head under the stream, the spray pounding against his skin and filling his ears.

"Hey," Mike said, making Kevin flinch. "Do you think people would be cool if I called Bill and some of my friends over?"

Kevin pushed his wet hair back and tried not to let his emotion show on his face. "I...I think it's just an open house thing," he stuttered out, keeping his eyes firmly looking at anything but Mike. "So it should be okay." He twisted off the taps. "I'll see you upstairs."

"Later," Mike said. Despite himself, Kevin glanced over, just for a second. But in that second he saw acres of dark skin, smooth across the gentle curve of Mike's back and down to his ass. Mike's hair was wet, slicked back, his eyes closed as he turned his face to the spray.

Kevin wrenched himself around, firmly trying to remind himself that Mike was off limits. Mike was his friend, and Kevin suspected he was seeing someone anyway. "Later," he mumbled and beat a hasty retreat.

*\o/*

Mike slid down off the railing that ringed the front porch as he spied Bill’s lanky frame leading the way up the front path. “Hey,” he called out, coming to stand at the top of the steps, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the party inside.

“Dude,” Sisky said, all but skipping up the steps. “You got us invited to a party full of _cheerleaders_ ,” he all but drooled. “You are the bestest friend _ever_.”

Mike cuffed him over the ear and pushed him toward the open door. “Don’t embarrass me,” he ordered gruffly.

He lost sight of Sisky pretty quickly. He saw Butcher in between the crowds of people, chatting with Travie and comparing ink, and Michael Guy had acquired a small group of girls from the pom squad who were cooing over his accent. He figured Sisky could stay lost for a little while.

He went and got himself a beer from the cooler, and leaned up against the wall where he could see both the common room and the dining room, just people-watching as he drank. “So,” Bill said, materializing out of the crowd, two fresh bottles dangling easily from his fingers. He handed one to Mike as he twirled to lean gracefully against the wall beside him. “These seem like nice, wholesome folk.” Out of the crowd, there was a whoop and some cheering, followed by someone who sounded suspiciously like Spencer yelling “BRENDON!”

Bill didn’t even blink. “Sporting and athletic types,” he added as Brendon raced past and out the door, a soaking wet Spencer hot on his heels.

“They’re good guys,” Mike agreed, grinning into his beer.

“Where’s Kevin?” Bill asked suddenly, and Mike spluttered, trying to swallow his mouthful too quickly.

“What?” he asked, suddenly wary.

“Your room mate. Kevin. Which one is he?”

Mike glanced around. He finally spotted Kevin, sitting next to Nic as she listened to Zack tell a story that seemed to involve a lot of exaggerated hand waving. “There,” he said, nodding.

“The big guy or the curly-haired cutie?”

Mike gave him a baleful look. “The curly-haired _guy_.”

“Who is cute,” Bill agreed, staring. Mike elbowed him in the ribs, hard. “I can see the attraction, in an elfish kind of way.”

Mike stared at him. “What are you on about?” he asked flatly, not looking Bill in the eye.

Bill put his beer down and turned to face Mike directly, resting his hands on Mike’s shoulders like a flyer about to load in. “Mike, I've know you a long time. I know you, and I know how you get.” He peered down into Mike's eyes. “You like the guy.”

Mike pulled out of Bill’s grasp and turned away, raising his bottle to his lips. He could feel Bill still staring at him. “He’s just a friend, he’s my room mate. He’s helping me with my tumbling so I can stay on the squad and keep my scholarship. Of course I probably mention him a few times.”

Bill laughed softly as he picked up his drink again. “More than a few,” he muttered. "I know it's been a while," Bill added quietly. "And I know your last breakup sucked, but he sounds nice." Mike pretended not to hear him over the sound of the party. Bill sighed and fell silent. They stood in silence, side by side, finishing their drinks as they watched the room.

If Mike only watched Kevin, well, Bill didn’t need to know.

And neither did Kevin.

*\o/*

The stars were bright overhead, and Kevin wondered briefly what his father would say if he knew Kevin was up at three am, helping his roommate pour his drunk friend into the backseat of someone's car. “Come on, Siskybiz,” Mike said, not looking exactly stable on his feet himself. “Just a little bit further.”

Sisky was part-octopus. Kevin grunted as Sisky tightened the hold he hand around Kevin’s neck. “You’re arright,” Sisky slurred. “And you,” he added, leaning into Mike who huffed and tried to carry the dead weight. “You’re awesome as always. I’m glad you d-d-dated my brother, even,” Sisky hiccuped. “Even if it was a trainwreck. Coz otherwise we might not be friends. Though it’d be great to h-h-have you as a brother-in-law.” He burst out laughing at nothing as they caught him before he fell again. Kevin grit his teeth as he hoisted Sisky back onto his feet, mind whirring even as he helped Sisky stagger on down the path.

Bill opened the back door of the car that was waiting. “You okay to drive?” Mike asked.

Bill pointed over the roof of the car. “Michael Guy is sober, and he assures me he’s now got the hang of driving on the correct side of the road.”

“Wrong side of the road,” Michael shot back in the tone of one who had had this argument a hundred times before.

Bill pretended not to hear him. “We’ve got young Adam from here. Night, guys,” he said, giving a little wave that was too jaunty for the hour.

Kevin and Mike stood and watched the car’s rear lights pull away and disappear into the night. “Come on,” Mike said, stifling a yawn. “I’m exhausted.” They turned and began to walk back up the path.

Kevin licked his lips. “Mike,” he asked carefully. “What did Sisky mean, you and his brother?”

Mike laughed softly. “Oh man, many, many, _many_ years ago, someone set me up on a date with Sisky’s big brother. We lasted maybe two dates, but we’re still good friends, so I guess it was a win all up.” He stretched, rolling his neck, before finally noticing that Kevin was no longer beside him. He turned, stilling as he took in Kevin’s stunned silence. Mike watched him a moment, trying to see his expression in the dim light. “Is that...I mean, I know some...is that a problem?” he finally asked, defiant as the silence stretched out.

Kevin shook his head suddenly as he realized what Mike was asking. “No, no,” he said, too quickly. He walked past Mike and sat down on the bottom step, pulling his knees loosely to his chest. “It’s just....”

Mike sat down beside him slowly, seemingly taking it as a good sign when Kevin didn’t flinch away. “Sorry I didn’t tell you, I honestly didn’t think it’d be a big deal. It’s...”

“I’m gay,” Kevin whispered, cutting him off. The truth poured out of him in a torrent of words. “And I told my parents, and they threw me out of the house and cut me off, and my old team hated me for it, and that’s why I’m here now, I'm not welcome back home, they said I was an abomination unto God and a disgrace, and I miss them so much even though they hate me and only Nic stood by me and we came here for a fresh start and, and…” he sniffed hard, cutting himself off before he started bawling.

There was a long silence where all Kevin could hear was them breathing. “That sucks,” Mike whispered at last. “I’m sorry.” His arm slid slowly around Kevin’s shoulders, giving him plenty of time to pull away.

It had been too long since anyone other than Nicole had touched him with care. Kevin twisted and burrowed into the embrace as Mike tightened his grip and held on.

They sat there like that for a very long time before, by silent agreement, they rose and went inside.

*\o/*


	3. break the sky - 3/4

 

*\o/*

When Mike woke the following afternoon, Kevin was already gone, his bed neatly made. Mike staggered downstairs in his sweats, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He grabbed a glass and drank it greedily - the dry grittiness behind his eyeballs told him he was on the cusp of a hangover, but not quite there.

“Yo,” Travie said, walking through the kitchen. “Diner run. You in?”

Mike felt his stomach growl. “Fuck, _yes_.”

Twenty minutes later, they were walking through the door of one of the diners just off campus. The specials board declared they served all-day breakfast, and Mike could smell bacon frying and coffee brewing. “Great idea,” he said.

“I’ve been known to have them,” Travie said with an easy grin as he slung himself into one of the big booths set into the far wall. Most of the house had still been sleeping it off, but Spencer and Maja and Cassadee were there, and as they squeezed in, the bell over the front door jangled again and Brendon appeared, dragging Kevin along behind him.

“Look who I found trying to study on a weekend,” he teased loudly, making Cass and Maja groan with the noise. Mike moved over, and Kevin slid in beside him, not quite managing to look him in the eye.

Mike nudged him with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said.

This time, Kevin managed to meet his eyes. “Hey,” he said in a tiny voice, the awkwardness a palpable presence between them.

The others were their usual hyper selves as they compared headaches, but Mike caught Brendon watching them thoughtfully, and wondered what Kevin had said to him on the ride over. Kevin didn’t seem to be close to anyone else but Nic on the team, but then again, Mike was only now starting to get how little he really knew Kevin.

They placed their orders as the diner started to fill up with the Sunday hangover crowd. “Hey, it's the pom-pom boys!” someone called out, and Travie's expression hardened for an instant before he settled into a watchful wariness.

They were squeezed into the booth, and Kevin was pressed into his side enough that Mike could feel the sudden shiver that ran through Kevin’s entire body as a giant of a guy lumbered up to loom across the end of their table. The guy was sneering, his gaze wandering around the table dismissively before it landed on _Brendon_. But Brendon wasn’t cowed. Instead, he looked almost bored. “Back again, Mark? I thought you flunked out.”

Mark smirked. “I’m the star quarterback, I don’t have to worry about shit like that, unlike you fucking fags.”

Mike bristled at the word. Next to him, Cass leaned forward, pitching her voice at a loud whisper. “Watch,” she said, putting on a vague British accent. “As the second-tier male attempts a chest-beating display of bravado in yet another futile attempt to achieve Alpha Male status.” Mike had to cover his snort with his hand, and he wasn't the only one laughing. Maja held out her hand for a highfive as Mark flashed them an angry look before turning back to Brendon.

Brendon just smirked, still slouched a little in his seat. “Sorry, I must be dumb, but I just don’t understand your logic.” He waved around at the other guys at the table. “We spend our days with hands all over some of the prettiest girls on campus, live in co-ed dorms, and have a shared locker room.” Maja wiggled her fingers in a little wave as she gave a saucy wink. “You, on the other hand,” Brendon continued calmly, as if he was just giving a talk in class. “You live in an all-male dorm, wrestle with other dudes in the mud and then go shower with them afterwards. Hmmm.” He sucked at his straw, his lips puckering almost provocatively around it. “I think you’re projecting, Mark, darling,” he all but purred, and Mark blanched. “But you’re really not my type. I prefer bigger...” There was a loaded pause. “... _Brains._ ”

There was silence for a long moment as Brendon let that sink in. Mark scowled and spluttered briefly before turning and storming off. The rest of the team hooted in laughter, clapping Brendon on the back. “I, I take it that that happens often?” Kevin stuttered slightly, his voice devoid of inflection.

Travie shrugged. “A bit. It’s getting better.”

Cass nodded. “I totally want to do my social psych project on those guys, but my prof won't let me 'bother,'” she said, sketching the quotes in the air with her fingers. “The football teams. Gah,” she spat, reaching for her drink. “I hate how people act as if football is, like, the only sport on campus.” She sucked furiously on her straw.

Travis nodded toward the other side of the diner, where a bunch of guys were gathered. “They don’t really get how hard cheerleading is. Nobody does.”

“They think they’re being clever,” Maja interjected. “Baiting the cheersquad is their equivalent of macho chest beating.”

Travie beamed at her, teeth flashing as he bit down on the end of his straw. “Hah! Like to see any of them try a Rewind. Then we’ll talk macho.”

The conversation slid off into a debate about the relative masculinity of various lifts and tosses. While everyone else was distracted, Mike risked a sideways glance at Kevin, and found Kevin staring at him. Kevin blinked and looked down quickly, toying with the condensation on the side of his glass.

Mike wished like hell he knew what was going through the kid’s head.

*\o/*

Kevin knew he was kind of...not avoiding Mike, he corrected himself firmly. Just -- he was just busy.

Even in his own head, he was uncomfortable with the lie.

But Mike was the closest he’d come to making his own, real, friends at NEU, and he’d just gone and _word vomited_ all over him. He hadn’t even had the excuse of being drunk -- actually, being drunk would have been preferable. It would have served the double purpose of fulfilling all the dark prophecies his father had yelled at him, and he probably wouldn’t have remembered what he’d done in the morning.

But he did remember, and now he had to figure out what to do next.

The thing that kept hitting Kevin right between the eyes was that _he wasn’t alone_. Mike had seemed pretty blasé about the whole ex-boyfriend thing, and Kevin now had serious suspicions about Brendon too, even if neither of them had actually said the G-word.

Kevin had been reading, stuff he’d never even known had existed and certainly would have dared to look at before. Things about labels and Kinsey scales and a lot of other stuff that suddenly made things he’d quietly suspected about himself make a lot more sense.

He’d snuck out of the room he and Mike had shared again this morning, the third time in a row. The big gym in the student center was still pretty quiet; not many people were willing to get out of bed at 6am on a crisp fall morning to go to the gym. There was music playing in the machine room, but Kevin had the pilates area pretty much to himself.

He moved through the stretches slowly, taking his time, but even the familiar routine couldn’t settle the whirl of his thoughts.

Kevin breathed out on his final posture and sat up, burying his face in his hands.

“You okay?” His head snapped up to find Mike standing sheepishly on the threshold. “Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt, but it looked like you were finishing?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said, jumping to his feet. “Just...” he shrugged, mentally kicking himself for even thinking about going there _again_ with Mike.

But Mike seemed unperturbed. He stepped fully into the room. “Okay. I’ve been slacking off on doing this, thought I’d start getting back into a rhythm.” He waved at the various contraptions around the room. “Help me out?”

Kevin nodded. As he quietly walked Mike through a simple exercise, he was surprised at how quickly the tension dissipated as they fell into their usual rhythm. If Mike felt it too, he didn’t mention it, but his smile didn’t seem so tense around the edges. “This all right?” he asked, exhaling and relaxing into the stretch.

“It’s good,” Kevin said. Mike nodded, like he understood that Kevin was talking about more than an exercise.

When Mike suggested they grab a coffee afterwards, Kevin didn’t hesitate to say yes.

*\o/*

“So,” Nic said, letting herself in and sitting down on the end of his bed. “You and Mike looked pretty into each other at the cafe this morning.” She smirked like she was in on a secret.

Kevin pretended to be absorbed in what was on his screen. “We hit the gym then got breakfast, that’s all.” He thought he did a good job of keeping his voice even and disinterested.

But Nic had known him too long. “Uh huh,” she drawled. Kevin didn’t have to look to know she was waggling her eyebrows at him like the tiny dork she was. He heard the bedding rustle, then she was wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Baby, I tease because I care. It’s good to see you getting out there.”

Kevin toyed, just for a second, with the idea of playing dumb. “We’re just friends,” he told her tiredly, dropping the pretence of pretending not to know exactly what she was referring to.

“Friends is a good place to start,” she agreed, her voice humming sweetly where she was pressed against his back. He sighed, his arms snaking back to hug her awkwardly. “Kevin, I know coming out sucked, big time. And I know you’re still hurting. But surely the silver lining of this whole experience must include being able to openly date guys you like?”

He let her go and leaned forward, folding his arms as his head dropped forward onto them. “It’s just...” he trailed off, mumbling into his shirtsleeve.

“Just what?” she asked, her tiny hands rubbing soothing circles over his shoulders.

Kevin took a deep breath and sat up. “It’s just,” he told the wall in front of him. This was almost as hard as the first time he said the words “I’m gay” to her. “I don’t know how to meet guys, or ask them out, or anything.” He laughed a little hysterically. “Maybe I could take a course or something?”

Nic slapped his bicep, hard enough to hurt. “Stop with the pity party. And dating guys isn’t hard, I’ve been doing it for years.” Kevin had to laugh at that -- Nic’s dating track record was the stuff of legend and horror story. “Here,” she added, dropping a folded scrap of paper onto his desk. “I, being the most awesome best friend in the history of awesome best friends, foresaw your pitiful excuses and went and got you that. Since you and Mike are ‘just friends,’” she added heavily.

“What is it?” he asked, unfolding the note and ignoring the comment about Mike.

Nic came around to perch against his desk, arms lightly folded, a cat-that-ate-the-cream smirk on her face. “Just the address of the best gay club in town.” She grinned wider at his scandalized expression, and leaned forward to peck another kiss to his cheek. “Happy hunting.”

Kevin waited until she’d skipped triumphantly out of the room before he screwed up the note and tossed it into the wastepaper basket.

*\o/*

William whistled low as Mike opened the door to his room. “Man, you may bitch, but ten points to Kevin for getting you to clean this place.”

Mike rolled his eyes and dropped to his knees by his bed, reaching under to pull out some of the boxes of crap he kept there. “Yeah, whatever. Check my desk,” he said, pointing out which was his, as if it wasn’t clear by the fact that one was neat and one was a disaster area. “I’m pretty sure I tucked it into a blue notebook, but it’s written in red sharpie so it should be pretty easy to spot.” He began ransacking the first box -- this is why he didn’t like cleaning, he just _lost_ things. He didn’t care what Kevin said, piles were a totally valid filing system.

William idly stirred the mess of Mike’s desk for a few minutes, shifting books and opening drawers. “Are you sure you just can’t remember it?” he asked, picking up an empty mug and wincing at the contents.

“Dude, I’ve _tried_ ,” Mike growled, sitting back on his heels as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know it started with a C sharp, and that’s it.” He shoved the box back under the bed and knee-walked a few feet over to start pawing through his bedside table.

Behind him, he heard more rustling of pages. “How much do you love me?” Bill asked, and Mike turned to see Bill sitting on his chair, the bin in his lap as he waved the sharpie-scrawled note like a flag.

Mike laughed with relief as he scrambled over, snatching it out of Bill’s hand. As soon as he saw it, the melody he’d written came flooding back. “Bingo, this is it! I think it’d really work with that lyric idea you had...” he reached over and grabbed his guitar, sitting on the end of his bed as he strummed a few chords, adjusting the speed of the progression.

“You know,” Bill said mildly. “You can tell a lot about a man by the contents of his bin. For instance, I know from this that you’re trying to quit smoking again because of all the nasty bits of gum in scraps of paper,” he said, ferreting around in the bin. "Another of Kevin's ideas?" he added with toxic sweetness. Mike ignored him and kept playing as Bill kept digging. “And that...are you back on the market, Michael?” he said delightedly. “I didn’t pick you for a bar pickup kind of guy.”

Mike stilled the strings. “What are you talking about?”

Bill flicked a bit of paper at him. It fluttered up and landed on the carpet halfway between them. Mike leaned forward and picked it up. “This isn’t mine, it must be Kevin’s,” he said, then stopped as his ears heard what he said.

“Oh, so _Kevin’s_ the one on the prowl,” Bill said, leaning back as far as the chair would allow. He eyed Mike over. “How very _interesting_.”

Mike screwed up the note and flung it at Bill’s head. “So what if he is?” he said, turning back to the strings and playing the sequence of chords fast and hard. They sounded good like that, so he played them again, eyes on his fingers.

“Mike,” Bill said patiently. “If this is just another one of your passing crushes which you do nothing about, then don’t blame the kid if he goes out cruising.”

Mike shook his head. “He wouldn’t.” He looked up at Bill’s disapproving noise and scowled. “You don’t know shit, so shut the fuck up.”

“So hostile,” Bill said mildly. “I also note the distinct lack of a denial about the crush on the room mate you talk about _all the time_.”

Mike thought about the party, about the conversation neither he nor Kevin had mentioned since. “He needs a friend more right now,” he said softly, strumming a sweet chord. “Look, are we working on this song or not?”

William sighed. “Play that bit again, but slow. It might be the chorus.”

Only after Bill had left did Mike go and retrieve the screwed up wad of paper from where it had landed by the closet door. He toyed with burning it, but in the end he shoved it into his desk drawer before going down to dinner.

Kevin was laughing at some story Nic was telling him, but he smiled as he spotted Mike and waved him over. “Was that Bill I saw earlier?” he asked quietly, leaning in.

Mike nodded. “He's gone now.”

Kevin smiled and looked away. “He's...he's always welcome, you know that, right?”

Mike nudged his shoulder. “Don't tell the fucker that, he'd never leave.”

Kevin chuckled as Nic pouted. “Do you want to hear this story or don't you?”

“Sorry, my lady,” Kevin said, waving his hand like a courtier. “Please, continue.”

Mike sat and half-listened, watching Kevin and trying not to think of what he would look like, dancing, happy and free, to the heavy bass thump in the low lights of a club.

*\o/*

“Okay,” Victoria yelled, clapping her hands together to get their attention. Her nails were painted purple and black today, and Kevin found himself vaguely hypnotised as he watched them. “It’s time to start getting our bid video together.”

“Listen up, kiddies,” Gabe said, tossing a slim remote from hand to hand. “This is the track I got my buddies to mix up for us.” He caught the remote and pointed it at the speakers on a shelf on the back wall of the gym.

The music that came pumping out was a mash-up by way of a psychedelic dance party. The beat was insistent and infectious, and Kevin found himself tapping along to the rhythm almost instinctively. He recognized some snippets of songs, but others he couldn’t place at all.

The track ended with an explosion at two minutes, fifteen seconds, the exact length of a Nationals routine. Kevin wasn’t the only one who burst into a round of applause.

Gabe bowed like a court jester. “Thank you, thank you. Now. We’ve got to make that epic, and blow the face off the bid judges.” As he spoke, Victoria was dragging a whiteboard on wheels over to the edge of the mat. “Here’s some ideas that Vic and I had last night to get you started.”

This was nothing like they'd done at triple-C -- there they had been told their routine, and they did it. Their input was clearly not required. Kevin twisted and sought out Nic, sitting between Zack and Cass, with the other flyer/base pairs. Her eyes were as wide as his, but when she saw him, a delighted grin spread across her face, and she nodded emphatically at him, her meaning clear: _go on_.

Kevin shook his head fiercely side to side. She flapped her hands encouragingly. “Hey,” Mike said, leaning in close, smelling of sweat. “What’s up with Nic?”

“She thinks she’s being cute,” Kevin whispered back as they were yelled up and onto the mat. Kevin swung his arms, limbering up his shoulders, as Gabe and Victoria gathered the bases and flyers into a huddle. “Okay, so, this bid video, it gets people into Nationals and decides who gets a free ride, right?” Mike waited for Kevin to nod as he stretched out his other shoulder. “Why not just have qualifiers?”

Kevin smirked at him. “You have a few spare days to fly out somewhere and compete?” He laughed as Mike scowled -- Kevin knew for a fact that Mike had been up until midnight working on an assignment because he himself hadn’t gone to bed until two, his essay tormenting his dreams. “We do enough travelling just cheering the away games. And even if we had the time, no cheer squad I know of has that kind of money.”

Mike scowled as Victoria jogged into her office and returned with her camera. “So we film? I hate being filmed. I make stupid faces.”

Kevin laughed and patted his shoulder. “That’s okay. Front line guys need to be a little cheesy.” He squawked and took off as Mike took a half-hearted swipe at him. Mike gave chase, weaving between Ash and Brendon, and soon the entire tumbling section was playing a vigorous and acrobatic game of chasey.

“HEY!” Gabe yelled. “Put that energy into working out a routine or I’ll slap you!”

Kevin knew his cheeks were flushed as he stood between Mike and Bebe in the huddle. As Victoria began walking them through the starting sequence, he glanced over and saw that Mike was watching him, grinning.

*\o/*

Kevin curled his toes around the edge of the platform and extended his arms. “You need to get to full extension before you coil, otherwise you won't have enough power,” he explained, before pushing up off his toes and doing a twist pike into the water. He surfaced and looked up at Mike's skeptical expression as he stood by the side of the pool. Mike tugged absently on the waistband of his shorts as he considerd the move, and Kevin ducked his head to cover his sudden blush, using the water to push his hair off his face. “Your turn,” he said brightly when he resurfaced for a second time, skulling back.

“Why aren't we doing this in the gym?” Mike asked as he stepped forward.

“Because water hurts less when you screw it up. Come on.” Kevin swam back, giving Mike plenty of room.

Mike turned, toes gripping the edge of the pool. He took a deep breath and threw himself off the edge. Kevin rode the shockwave of water as Mike surfaced, spluttering. “Well, that sucked,” he declared, paddling back over to hang off the edge.

Kevin swam in. “Hence, the water landing,” he said with a teasing laugh.

Mike scowled and splashed him. “At least this way I should have fewer bruises.” He smiled at Kevin. “I think Bill was halfway to calling social services on the squad for all the bruises he's found on me lately.”

Kevin's answering smile froze. “Uh,” he muttered, unsure what to say. “That must have been, um, awkward? For you and him?”

Mike shrugged and hoisted himself out of the pool. Kevin took a deep breath as he came face to chest with Mike's water-slicked body. “It's just Bill being Bill,” Mike said as he twisted to sit on the ledge. “Don't worry about it. Come on,” he added, kicking out to make the water ripple. “Let me try again, I'm gonna get this fucker.”

Kevin swallowed and swam backwards to give Mike the space he needed.

*\o/*

“Mike, come on!” Kevin's voice called down the hall. “The bus leaves in...oh,” he said, pausing with his hand on the knob. “Sorry, I didn't realize...”

Bill raised his hand in greeting, wiggling his fingers. “Hello, Kevin, fancy seeing you here.”

“It's his room too, Bill,” Mike growled from where he was knelt on the floor. He sighed in frustration as he glanced around the mess that was his side of the room. “Kev, have you seen my shoes?”

Kevin jerked his thumb over his shoulder, turning away from Bill. “Did Brendon take them to bedazzle them?”

Mike growled a curse. “If there is a dot of glitter on them, I'm going to kill him.”

Kevin was already backing out. “I can go ask...”

“No,” Mike cut him off. “I'll do it. That way, if I have to kill him, I don't have to go far.” He picked up his sports bag and threw it at Bill, where the fucker was still lounging on Mike's bed. “Be right back.”

Kevin ended up following him down the hall. “Don't worry,” Mike said. “I won't maim him so much he can't tumble.”

“I just...” Kevin stuttered, looking so wretched that Mike stopped walking. “Um, like you said. If you want the room to yourself, just put a sock or something on the door knob.” Mike blinked, lost. “But maybe not right before away games, huh?” Kevin added curtly before turning and walking down the stairs.

Mike stared after him in confusion. “But it's just Bill,” he called after Kevin. There was no reply.

Mike was torn between going after him and finding Brendon. Gabe's whistle and yell of “Two minutes or else you run behind the bus all the way to the stadium,” made up his mind for him. He turned away from the stairs and went to find Brendon and his demon bedazzler.

“You need to go, fucker,” he told Bill as he came back a minute later with his well-drawn on but mercifully unglittered tumbling shoes. “And don't you dare think about coming to the game or I will choke you with a pom-pom.”

Bill held up his hands in surrender. “Is there trouble in paradise with you and the little one?” Bill asked instead. “He seemed a mite tense.”

Mike shrugged and focused on stuffing his shoes in his bag. “Mid-terms, the big game, how the fuck should I know,” he said, more angrily than he'd intended. Despite all the time they'd spent together these past few months, Kevin could still throw up walls that Mike had no hope of scaling, no matter how hard he tried.

He had a sense that this was one of those times. “But...” Bill said thoughtfully.

“No buts,” Mike said, taking his frustration out of a familiar target. “Get out.”

*\o/*

Mike walked in their room and straight into an argument. “Mike!” Nic said, spinning around, hands on hips. “Tell Kevin to man up.”

“Man up, Kevin,” Mike said dutifully as he tossed his back onto his chair and flopped onto his bed. “Now, what are you manning up about, or do I need to be elsewhere while this conversation takes place?” He had a sudden thought of the scrap of paper with an address on it, still hidden in his desk drawer, and started pushing himself up, ready to make a break for it.

“Nic is being stupid,” Kevin said, his voice muffled as he half-smothered himself with his own pillow.

“Nic is talking sense,” Nic parroted back, pointing to herself. “Mike, tell him that Gabe won’t rip him a new one if Kevin makes some suggestions to liven up the tumbling.”

Mike tilted his head thoughtfully. “Gabe only rips people out for bad ideas.”

“And this,” Kevin groaned from under his pillow. “Is a bad idea. A very bad idea. Very, very bad.” He let the pillow drop into his lap. “The coach decides the choreography, Nic. That’s just how it works.”

Mike frowned, trying to catch up in the conversation. “Wait, you mean for the bid? Why not? Bebe and Ashlee pretty much had him cornered after practice yesterday.”

“See!” Nic said sharply, kicking him lightly. “They’re good ideas, Kevin. New tricks always score high.” She glanced at her watch and tsked under her breath. “I’ve got study group.” She stood and picked up her bag. “Mike, I’m leaving the beating of sense into him in your capable hands.”

Mike sketched a salute. Nic accepted it with a serious little bob of her chin and strode out the door. Kevin groaned as the door slammed behind her. “Would you believe that, once upon a time, she was a shy and quiet little girl?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Mike told him, laughing. He quietened as Kevin didn’t respond. “Your old team, I take it you didn’t do your own choreography?”

Kevin shook his head, eyes still locked on the ceiling. “We did as we were told,” he said flatly.

“Well, that sucks.” Mike studied Kevin’s profile for a moment. “I’m no expert, but the stuff you come up when you and I practice, that’s always interesting. So why don’t we show Gabe some moves, let him decide?”

Kevin finally looked at him. “We?”

Mike shrugged and tried to play it casual. “Yeah. We. I figure it’s the least I owe you for all the time you’ve put in, helping me.”

Kevin sighed. “You don’t owe me, Mike. That’s what friends do.”

Mike smirked. “And this is what friends do.” He reached out, but the distance was too great between their beds to poke him, so he settled for throwing his pillow. “We’ll break out some moves tomorrow, see how Gabe reacts, okay?”

Kevin threw the pillow back. “Okay, fine, geez. Between you and Nic,” he said, laughing and leaving the sentence hanging.

Mike swallowed, hard. “Well, Nic and I both think you’re pretty awesome, Jonas, so forgive us.”

Kevin stilled. “You do, huh?”

Mike sat up, embarrassed. “Yeah, I mean, whatever.” He stood up and grabbed his bag again. “I’m going over to Bill’s for a bit.”

Kevin had sat up. “Are we...I mean,” he corrected himself quickly. “If we’re doing stuff for Gabe, we should practice first.”

Mike paused, one hand on the doorknob. “Eight?”

Kevin nodded, not meeting his eye. “See you on the mat then.”

Mike all but raced down the stairs and out the front door. Only once he was outside did he slow down, trying to steady his racing heart.

The absolute last thing he needed right now was Bill saying ‘I told you so.’

*\o/*

The blue surface dipped and sprang under Mike’s weight as he walked onto the mat. “Hey Kevin, sorry I’m late, Bill and I got kinda caught up in this thing.

Kevin shrugged. “No big,” he said dismissively, turning away. Whatever Mike was up to with Bill, or whoever, it was no business of his. He'd spent the last half hour trying to convince himself of that, and he was _almost_ believing it now. “Warm up, and we’ll work through some passes.”

The atmosphere was tense as they started tumbling. Mike kept tripping up on the easiest pass, and Kevin could see that the sequences weren’t gelling, but he had no idea why. As Mike went sprawling for the fifth time in as many minutes, Kevin was ready to give up. Mike growled under his breath in irritation as he got back onto his feet, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. “I’ll get this,” he snapped before Kevin could say anything. “Just, just gimme a sec.”

“Okay,” Kevin walked a tight circle on the mat, pushing his hair back with both hands. “Let’s go back to basics,” he said, pulling his shoulders back, trying to ease his looming headache. “Come here.” He pointed to a spot on the mat by his side. “Straight up mirrored sequence tumble, just like we did yesterday. Remember it?”

Mike nodded tightly as he shook out his hands. “Got it. And three, two, one...”

They rolled into an easy cartwheel, side-by-side, twisting through the tumbling sequence as they crossed the mat. Kevin almost relaxed, but on the last element, he sensed Mike wobble seconds before Mike crashed into him, sending both of them tumbling down.

Kevin grunted as he and Mike hit the mat, hard. He lay there, stunned and frozen by the feel of Mike’s body pressing into his, knees to chest.

Mike planted his hands on the mat on either side of Kevin’s shoulders and pushed up slightly. But he didn’t move to get off, and the slight twist of his body now meant that his groin was pressing firmly into Kevin’s. “You okay?” Mike asked, low and a little breathless.

Kevin nodded. He should be pushing Mike off, making excuses, yelling, something, _anything_. But all he seems to be capable of his lying there, getting half-hard in his loose gym shorts, feeling Mike’s body undulate slightly to the rhythm of his breathing.

Mike’s eyes widened, and he shifted, moving forward, putting more of his weight on his hands, his face dangerously close to Kevin’s. Kevin felt an unfamiliar firmness in the body pressed against his.

At least he wasn’t the only one. He instinctively tilted his head up, barely daring to breath.

They froze there, lips an inch apart. Mike’s breathing shuddered and Kevin wanted to close his eyes, unwilling to be the first to close that final gap.

He felt the puff of air as Mike sighed. “Shit, sorry,” he muttered, pushing up off Kevin and onto his feet with more grace than he’d shown all night. “I, I, I’m just gonna,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the doors.

Kevin pushed himself up into sitting. “Wait,” he said, sucking in a lungful of air as Mike froze, one foot off the mat. Kevin didn’t know why, but he was sure if Mike walked away now, it would all go wrong. It was bad enough he'd let himself think, even for a second, that he and Mike...but he couldn't lose Mike as a friend too. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't lose anyone else this year. “It’s okay,” he said more softly, coaxingly.

Mike half-turned, one foot still on the hardwood floor. He wouldn’t meet Kevin’s eye.

“It’s okay,” Kevin repeated, staying where he was on the ground. He doubted his legs could have supported him right then anyway. “It...it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he offered, working hard to keep the half-smile on his face.

Mike nodded slowly, and Kevin exhaled as Mike lifted his foot back onto the mat. “Okay,” he said, like he couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “That was just...yeah,” he cut himself off, pushing his hair back. “Nothing. Sorry.”

Mike was back on the mat, but still the tension was almost palatable. “Besides,” Kevin said with desperate humour. “The showers are too busy right now if you wanted privacy.”

Mike blinked at him owlishly for a second, then burst out into startled laughter. “Have you been talking to Bill?” Mike chuckled, and Kevin dipped his head so Mike wouldn’t see his expression. Bill, of course. “You have,” Mike chortled a little desperately. “Such a bad influence. Come on,” he said. Kevin exhaled slowly again as Mike’s feet appeared on the mat in front of him. He looked up to see a hand being offered. “We still need to practice.”

Kevin let himself be hauled up, walking around Mike and back to the other corner of the mat, willing himself back under control. “Want to try it again?” he asked, and then winced at the unintended meaning.

But Mike just nodded. “Sure. Come on,” he said as he took his position. “Count us in.”

*\o/*

Mike dropped onto the sofa next to Bill, and handed him a beer. “I have to be here, what’s your excuse?”

William toasted Mike, the chink of their bottles lost in the noise of the party. “My editor talked me into writing a piece on the social lives of a sports team.” He used his beer to discreetly cover the small notepad he had resting on his thigh. “I think my final conclusion will be that they are incredibly boring,” he opined. “What have you been up to?”

Mike took a swig. “Well,” he said, picking at the label with his thumb to avoid Bill's eyes. “I almost kissed Kevin yesterday.”

He winced as the silence dragged out next to him. “I see,” Bill said at last. “I don’t know whether to be pleased my gaydar continues to be more awesome than yours, or disappointed that you said _almost_.”

Mike scowled and drank half his beer in one long chug. “He said it didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything,” he told Bill.

“Howso?” Bill asked quietly.

Mike groaned and let his head flop back onto the backrest. “It got so weird and awkward that he made a bad joke, tried to laugh it off. I had this fucking hard-on like a fourteen year old, and he was looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. It was the worst thing I could have done to him right now, fuck,” he spat, flopped back against the stained cushions. “I’m such a fucking jerk.”

He was ready for mocking, platitudes, even comfort. He wasn't expecting William to unfold himself up off the couch. “Hold that thought,” Bill said, handing him his untouched beer as he disappeared into the throng of people crammed into the house for the end of the football season.

“Well, screw you too,” Mike muttered as he finished his beer, and started on Bill’s. He could totally show Gabe their moves with a hangover, right?

He was halfway through the second bottle and contemplating a third, fourth and fifth, when the crowds parted and Kevin appeared. He slid between two knots of people and sat down, resting with his knees half-pulled up and his entire body turned toward Mike. “So,” he said without preamble, his face a picture of terrified bravado. “Bill tells me that I've got it all wrong, and it's not him you want to date.”

Mike nearly spat out his beer. “What?” he spluttered, dabbing ineffectually at his lips.

Kevin smiled, just a tiny tug at the corner of his lips, but Mike caught it. “You talk about Bill so much, I...I kinda thought you two were together, or were heading that way.” Mike just raised an eyebrow, and Kevin turned his away slightly, his blush flaming across his cheeks. “Which is why I was feeling like such a horrible person for...for having a crush on you.” He sucked in a deep breath and barrelled on before Mike could even process what he was hearing. “Um, yeah, I was hoping I’d just start liking you, not _like-_ liking you,” he winced. “I didn’t want to say anything, make things weird between us, but things are weird, aren’t they?” he said in a highspeed babble. “So if you wanted to request a room change or something, I’d be okay...”

“Kevin,” Mike interrupted him, putting his bottle down onto the floor. “Shut up.” He leaned forward, resting his hand on Kevin’s knee for balance as he pressed his lips to Kevin’s. They kissed chastely for a moment until he felt Kevin unfreeze. He pulled back just an inch. “I'm not seeing Bill. But I'd like to date you, if you'll have me?”

Kevin broke out into a million kilowatt smile.

*\o/*

Kevin felt like he should have been exhausted. He and Mike had stayed up late, just talking and kissing. Mostly kissing, if he was being honest with himself. His lips felt swollen and bruised, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He felt like he could run a marathon or win at Nationals or climb Mount Everest right about now.

Nic sipped her coffee and watched him with a fond expression. “So,” she asked at last, after the waiter had deposited their plates and withdrawn. “Are you going to give me all the gory details, or do I have to beat them out of you?”

Kevin took his tiny sachets of marmalade and dropped them onto her plate. The cafe was buzzing with the early Saturday morning crowd, but Kevin felt one step removed from mundane, everyday life right now. “We kissed,” he admitted, blushing at the memory, unable to stop smiling.

“You and Mike?” she asked, raising her eyebrow as she forked over her extra rasher of bacon. “Because if you did, don’t tell Zack.” Kevin froze for a split second before she added. “I bet him that it wouldn’t be until after Nationals, but his bet was before the bid was even done, so I owe him a twenty, thanks honey.”

Kevin fought to swallow his coffee. “You bet...?” he asked weakly, blinking in surprise.

She smiled sweetly. “Only because we care. Now, we can talk about your love life and then the bid, or the bid and then your love life. Your choice, loverboy.”

“Bid, please,” Kevin said weakly, feeling another blush spread across his face. “I don’t think a few hours of making out really counts as a love life.”

Nic laughed, loud and free, turning heads from the seats around them in the cafe. “Oh, Kev, my drought has been so long, that totally counts now.”

“And we’re talking about the bid now,” Kevin said, over-bright. Nic laughed but complied.

When they walked back into the cheerleader’s dorm an hour later, arm in arm and grinning, Mike met them in the dining room. “Hey,” he said to Kevin, glancing at Nic with a question in his eyes.

Kevin nodded his consent and Mike closed the distance between them, gently cupping the back of Kevin’s head to lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ve gotta run to class, but I’ll see you guys at training?”

Kevin nodded and stole another kiss before Mike could pull away, feeling a thrill race through him at the thought: _I can do this now_.

He turned to watch Mike rush out the door, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. When he turned back, Nic was smiling happily. “Okay, that was totally worth twenty bucks.” She flung her arms around Kevin and he hugged her back, feeling truly happy for the first time in a very long time.

*\o/*


	4. break the sky - 4/4

*\o/*

“Come on Jonas!” Gabe bellowed as Victoria scowled and jabbed at the tiny camera buttons. “You came up with this sequence, you should be showing me how it’s done, not fucking it up every fucking take.” Mike winced on Kevin’s behalf even as he bent forward, hands braced on his knees. He was so tired, even breathing seemed like too big an effort.

They had done this sequence over and over, and still Gabe and Victoria weren’t happy.

“Again!” Gabe bellowed.

The clock above the mat was ticking past nine pm by the time Gabe shut off the camera. “We maybe got one usable take out of that mess. Back again tomorrow,” he snapped before stalking out.

“Hey,” Mike said, coming up behind Kevin as people started filing out, too tired even to gossip like usual. “It’s cool, we’ll get this.”

Kevin just groaned and let himself drop backwards, rolling automatically before splaying out across the mat, arms and legs flung wide like a starfish. Mike grinned and stepped over Kevin’s prone body, a foot on either side of Kevin’s hips. “Go away, dying,” Kevin groaned, flinging an arm across his face as Mike loomed over him.

“Uh uh,” Mike laughed as the gym emptied. Nic paused in the doorway, the last one out, and gave him a big thumbs-up before disappearing. His laugh earned him a suspicious glare from the floor. “Sorry, not you, Nic.”

“Ugh,” Kevin groaned, closing his eyes. “Leave me to die in peace.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Mike said with a grin. He was enjoying the view. Kevin was sweaty, his cheeks flushed, and his collar tugged open to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of collarbone. He could look now, and he fully intended to enjoy it. Kevin groaned and covered his face with his arm. “I think it’s against the boyfriend code to leave your better half to die alone.”

Kevin froze, then slowly lifted his arm up from over his eyes. Mike frowned as Kevin stared at him. “Boyfriend?” he asked carefully.

Mike winced. _Shit_. They’d made out, but they’d never said....he smiled a weak apology. “Um, that is, only if you want to be. I mean, I’d like to, but...” he stopped mid-sentence as Kevin reached up and gently took Mike’s hands. He tugged, and Mike dutifully pulled him to his feet.

“Boyfriends,” Kevin agreed with a stunned little smile, and Mike had to lean in to kiss him again, just because he could.

*\o/*

“Go Northeastern!” Nic says, handing out booster packs to the VIPs who were entering the room in a slow but steady trickle.

Kevin smiled and nodded as the guy moved on toward the buffet. “But what if I screw this up?” he asked, handing her another pack from the box under the desk by his side.

“Then you screw it up. Then you try and fix it. It’s called being in a relationship, Kev,” she said, sounding exasperated as she turned to greet another VIP. Kevin waited patiently as Nic chatted to him briefly, handed him his pack, and sent him smiling into the main knot of people milling around the buffet tables.

“God, what a creep, he wanted my phone number,” she said, rolling her eyes as she accepted another pack from Kevin.

“Tell him you have a boyfriend, Nic,” Kevin said. “Or better yet, tell ‘em I have a boyfriend, and see what they do.” He grinned happily. Boyfriend. He had a boyfriend.

Nic wrinkled her nose. “I’ll do that. Then I’ll say you’re looking for someone to join them for a threesome. See how much they donate after that.” He slapped her shoulder gently, and she poked out her tongue at him before sighing and turning around back to the crowd. She hated these pep events; they all did. No other sports team had to do them, but then again, no school considered cheerleading to be a real sport.

As Nic approached the next VIP, Kevin noticed that the safety pins holding the ripped zip of her skirt shut were starting to twist. He grabbed her arm as she came back for the next pack. “Take a break, fix your zip,” he whispered to her, leaning in.

Nic meeped “God, I can’t wait til we get our new uniforms,” she moaned as she dashed out of the room, her hands over the back of her skirt.

“What’s up with Nic?” Mike asked, coming over.

“Wardrobe malfunction. How are you liking a boosters event?” Kevin asked with a grin, resisting the urge to lean up and kiss him, crowd of strangers and all. He used to think kissing was boring, back when he was pretending for the sake of his parents. But it turned out that, with Mike, kissing was _awesome_.

“Are the supporters always this...creepy?” Mike asked, looking around warily.

Kevin sighed. “Ah, thank the cheerleader stereotype for that. No one knows about the weightlifting or the 4.0 GPAs. All they know about are the short skirts and the cheesy smiles.”

Mike chuckled, ignoring the VIPs walking past. “Sounding a little bitter, Jonas,” he teased.

Kevin felt his mood lighten a little. “Well, after watching guys old enough to be your father hit on your best friend for the hundredth time, it gets old. Hi,” he said brightly to a couple who walked through the door, no trace of his sarcasm in his voice. “Go Northeastern.” He handed them a pack.

Mike watched him with an amused smile on his face. “Such a pro,” he teased.

Kevin pulled two more packs out of the shipping box, and slapped one against Mike’s chest. “Yeah, well, doing the booster events will get us funding for new uniforms for Nationals.” He grinned, feeling that still-new excitement. The bids had been announced the week before, but the thrill of placing was still fresh and new. “We can’t fly if our pants are falling off.”

Mike slowly let his eyes drag over Kevin’s body. “Well, not in public,” he teased, and Kevin felt himself go bright red. Mike grinned wickedly.

“Oi,” Travis said as he walked past to grab a few more packs from the box. “Less flirting with each other, more flirting with the people with cash” he scolded mildly. “Get out there and make these guys love you enough to give us lots of money.”

“There’s a name for someone like that, you know” Mike shot back, winking at Kevin before he headed back into the crowd.

Travie sighed. “Stop staring at his ass, Jonas, and get out there.”

*\o/*

Mike heard the yell and the curse as he helped catch Greta in the basket toss. As Greta slipped down to stand on the mat, Mike wasn’t the only one to turn, craning to see who had fallen. He hoped it wasn’t Nic - she was training on a sprained wrist, and Mike had had a ten minute argument with her outside the locker rooms about her sitting it out, until Kevin had come along and had sided with Nic.

“She’s hurt, she should rest,” Mike had hissed at Kevin as Nic had skipped triumphantly across the mat to throw herself at Zack, who caught her easily. “Why the fuck are you encouraging her to train?”

“Nationals,” Kevin had said with a shrug, like that explained everything, before going over to help her strap up. Mike was maybe not talking to either of them, at least until he calmed down a bit.

But Nic was fine, standing with her back against Zack’s front, staring wide-eyed as Bebe and Ashlee huddled around someone sitting on the floor. “I am so sorry,” Bebe was saying, looking frantic and upset.

Mike pushed forward as he identified Kevin by his sharpie-painted training shoes. He was sitting up, but leaning against Ash, his hand to his face. Blood was dripping through his fingers. Mike dropped to his knees beside Kevin, catching the towel Dallon tossed him. “It’s okay, I don’t think it’s broken,” Kevin said thickly.

“Shut up,” Mike told him, pressing the towel gently to Kevin’s face. Kevin hissed but stayed still.

“Yo, Jonas, stop bleeding on my floor,” Gabe said, but he was gentle as he pressed his fingers along Kevin’s cheeks. “I don’t think it’s broken, but you need ice on that. Go on, get.” Mike went to follow, but Gabe snagged his arm before he'd taken two steps. “Did you get an elbow to the face? No? Then get back into the fucking line.”

Only Nic’s wide-eyed and frantic expression stopped him from snapping at Gabe. He settled for scowling as he took his place with the others in the basket. Vicky-T waited until the gym doors closed before whistling for the flyers to launch into the next basket toss. Mike was still looking that way as Greta came down. She glared at him as she was decanted out of their arms. “Mind on the flying girl, Carden,” she snapped.

“Right, sorry,” he winced. He thought he’d gotten past the stage of being glared at by everyone, but maybe not.

The moment practiced ended, Mike raced off the mat. Kevin wasn’t in the locker room, so Mike thundered upstairs to find Kevin sitting in the old armchair in the common room, an icepack balanced precariously on his face as he rested his head back. “What’s the damage?” Mike asked, sitting down on one of the arms and gingerly lifting the pack. Kevin’s face was red from the hit and the ice, and Mike could tell that Kevin was probably going to be sporting at least panda eyes for the next few days. “Do you need to go to the doctor?”

Kevin shook his head, wincing. “Just a bloody nose,” he said, sounding clogged up. “I’ll be fine. Stop fussing. Has practice ended?”

Mike leaned over and kissed his forehead gently. “It’s in my job description to worry,” he countered, feeling like a broken record. “And please don’t tell me you were planning on going back out onto the mat today?”

Kevin dabbed at his top lip with a crumpled tissue. “But it’s Nationals,” he protested.

Mike’s fingers dug into the worn material of the armchair as he counted to ten. “But it’s your stupid face,” he countered. “And I get Nationals is a big deal. I do,” he said at Kevin’s skeptical expression. “But I also have a thing for your stupid face.”

“Such a romantic,” Kevin murmured, dropping the ice pack into his lap. Mike bunched up Kevin’s training shirt in his fist and leaned in to kiss him.

Kevin’s lips tasted like blood.

*\o/*

The door was flung open with a bang. “We made it to Florida, huzzah, huzzah!” Brendon yelled.

Kevin waved as he bounced on the end of his bed. “You in with us?” he asked, curling his legs out of the way.

“Yep, we’re your roomies,” Dallon said, dragging his case in behind him. “So no hanky panky, okay?”

“Unless you let us film you and sell the footage,” Brendon added, almost tripping over his own giant case as he leered at Mike. “Cheerleaders Gone Wild.”

“Uh, no,” Mike said, deadpan, watching in amusement as Brendon struggled to lift his case onto his narrow bed. He opened the catches and Kevin laughed at Mike’s expression as Brendon dove into it almost up to his waist.

“I brought bread and peanut butter.” Brendon popped out, holding a loaf and jar. He waggled them temptingly. “Who’s hungry?”

Dallon made a distressed noise. “Nervous?” Kevin asked sympathetically.

“Not thinking about it,” Dallon sang. He looked very pale.

“He was freaking out the entire trip down,” Brendon chortled through a mouthful of bread and peanut butter. “He’s nervous,” he diagnosed with a quick little nod of his head.

“And you’re gross,” Dallon snapped back.

“And you should eat,” Brendon said, smearing peanut butter on so thickly he had to hold the slice between both hands. “Don’t want to faint and drop Bebe on her head, she’d kill you.”

“What, for dropping her or for losing?”

Brendon beamed and waved the slice under Dallon’s nose. “She’d kill you for losing, and then she’d go to work on you for dropping her. So eat!”

The smell of peanut butter followed them down to the open air auditorium where the partner stunt competition was going to be held. “So many people,” Mike yelled over the noise of the crowd, pushing in close to Kevin.

Kevin beamed at him, already feeling pumped from the noise and the energy. “Hey, there’s Nic and Zack,” he said, grabbing Mike’s hand and pulling him down toward the stage. Mike grinned and tightened his grip on Kevin's hand as he let himself be towed down to front stage.

“So, wait,” he asked, looking around. “People are here to cheer the cheerleaders?” he asked, grinning.

Kevin whacked him on the arm. “Listen,” he snapped, and Mike frowned at his tone. “I know, even after all this time, even with the scholarship and all the training and everything, there’s a part of you that still thinks that this is a bit of a joke. But can you at least accept that this is important to Nic?” He turned to scan the stage, arms folded tightly across his chest. “She should have been up there last year,” he added, his voice almost lost in the roar of the crowd. “It was my fault she wasn't, and I’m not letting anything mess it up for her this year. Okay?” he all but snapped.

Mike blinked. “Okay,” he said softly, daring to reach out and touch Kevin’s arm. Kevin sniffed and looked over, a fake smile on his face. “I’m sorry, you’re right,” he admitted.

Kevin unfolded his arms. “And I’m sorry. I’m just so nervous for her,” he admitted, the fight draining out of him. “Come on,” Kevin said softly, pushing away the sudden surge of emotion. “They’re about to start.”

*\o/*

Mike joined the rest of the team in the stands near the stage, feeling chastized. Kevin was right; a part of him was still sniggering about the idea of cheerleading being anything other than waving pom-poms. It was a rapidly shrinking part, after weeks of two-a-day practices, but still the idea persisted.

Mike turned and looked back up the tiered seats in stunned amazement -- he just had no idea this even existed. This was like the Superbowl of cheerleading.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the National Cheer Association Partner Stunt finals,” an anonymous voice boomed across the amphitheatre. The roar of the crowd was almost a physical force, and Mike found himself leaning forward expectantly alongside everyone else.

He clapped and cheered with the rest of the team as Spencer and Cass walked onto the mat, waving and smiling at the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer said as they stepped onto the square. “Reigning partner stunt champions, from the Northeastern University Cobras, Cassadee Pope and Spencer Smith.

Cass lay down on her back, Spencer standing over her hips. Their hands touched as the music started, and Cass flew. “Holy fuck!” Mike breathed as she tumbled up, only to be neatly caught in Spencer’s right hand.

He’d caught parts of their practices before, but never seen the whole routine. He couldn’t stand still as Cass twisted and flew from stunt to stunt, terrified that, at any moment, gravity would reclaim her and bring her crashing down. He knew from Nic that it was forty-five intense seconds, but it felt like it was over in a blink of an eye.

Mike clapped and cheered as Cass and Spencer walked off the stage. He glanced over, but Kevin was frowning even as he clapped. “What’s wrong?” he yelled, trying to be heard over the roar of the crowd.

“Cass bobbled,” Kevin yelled back. “She must be killing herself over it right now. I hope it doesn’t get everyone else into their heads.”

Mike frowned; from where he was standing, the routine had seemed flawless. But before he could ask, the next pair were skipping onto the stage.

“And again from the Northeastern Cobras, Bebe Rexha and Dallon Weekes.”

The routine flew by in a whirl of movement, but Mike kept half an eye on Kevin’s face, watching it tense up as Bebe loaded in, and relax into a happy smile as she stuck the move. He was beaming, hands a blur as he clapped them off the stage. “Flawless,” he said, catching Mike watching.

Mike bit his lip; he’d never seen Kevin so animated, so _real_ in his happiness before. The flush on his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes was making everything before today seem a pale imitation. As another pair took the stage, Mike decided to take the risk. Kevin hated PDA, but no-one was watching them; all eyes were on the stage. He pressed even closer into Kevin’s side even closer, looping his arm around Kevin’s so they both could still clap.

Kevin stilled for a split second, then leaned into Mike. Mike breathed a sigh of relief, even as Kevin's head whipped around as the announcer called out the next pair. “From the Northeastern Cobras, Nicole Anderson and Zack Hall!”

The team cheered and whooped, but Mike caught a second group over on the other side of the stadium making just as much noise. His eyes widened as he saw a knot of people dressed in grey and green, clapping and cheering and stamping their feet for Nic.

Kevin had heard it too; his arm tightened almost painfully around Mike’s. Mike let him hold on as they stared. One of the Mouses saw them, and nodded at them before turning his attention back to the stage.

On stage, Nic was beaming as she stepped onto the mat. Zack came up behind her, his hands huge around her tiny waist. The music started.

And Nic flew.

*\o/*

“So, tell me,” Spencer asked Kevin as they sat on plastic chairs outside their hotel, watching people walking by and listening to the distant yells of last-minute practices and the buzz of insects as they flew around the lights. “As her best friend, how long do you think it will be ‘til she wears herself out?”

Kevin laughed. His cheeks were aching from smiling so much, but Nic’s joy was contagious. She finally had what she had worked so long for. “How long is a piece of string?” he fired back, wiping the last of the pizza grease off his fingers. “How many angels can dance on the head of a pin?”

“So, a while then,” Spencer said drily, though even in the low light of the courtyard, Kevin could see he was grinning.

Kevin stood up and picked up the empty pizza box. “I’ll go check, and make sure she’s not actually floating away or anything,” he told Spencer with a chuckle.

He found her with Brendon, the pair of them tossing lazy cartwheels on the footpath. “All this grass and you guys tumble on concrete,” he scolded mildly. “You want to risk a broken wrist?”

Brendon blew a raspberry mid-turn, bouncing to his feet and skipping over. “The grass is dry, it prickles,” he said, his pout turning into a laugh as Nic bounded over and flung herself into Kevin’s arms.

“Kevin!” she cried into his ear. “We won partner stunt!”

“I know,” he told her, hugging her fiercely. “I was there. It was _awesome_.”

Brendon laughed. “First, second and third,” he chortled. “I thought Gabe was going to explode from the excitement!”

“VickyT did have to go and have a lie down,” Kevin laughed as Nic slithered out of his arms.

Brendon laughed and looked around. “Is there any more pizza? I want pizza.” He all but danced away back down the path.

Kevin watched him go and wondered if Spencer could handle a hyper Brendon alone. He probably could; he'd had a lot of practice after all. Nic tugged on his hand to reclaim his attention. “I saw you cheering for me,” she said softly, leaning into him.

“Of course.” Kevin accepted her hug, planting a soft kiss on her hair.

“I also,” she added, pulling back with a deep breath. “Saw Nick and Joe cheering for me. Did you see them?”

Kevin nodded, feeling his eyes prickle. “You were Joe’s flyer for how long?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light. “He only ever wanted to do partner stunt because you wanted it so badly. I bet he was glad to see you win.”

“I don’t think that’s all,” Nic said, but Kevin shook his head and turned away. He couldn’t let himself think about what-ifs, not now. Not when there was just hours to go until finals. Nic nodded and let it go, but she held his hand all the way back to the hotel. “Hey Mike,” she said, letting go only to push Kevin over. “He’s all yours. I’ll see your lovely faces at breakfast, okay?”

Kevin smiled as Mike reached over and gave her a quick hug and tickle that made her squeal. This was his family now.

He couldn’t get distracted.

*\o/*

Mike shook out his arms nervously as he bunched up with the rest of the Cobras at the mouth of the tunnel. On the other side of the canvas that separated waiting performers from the audience, he could hear people screaming and whooping, and the high-paced techno beat of the music as another team cheered through their routine.

“Everyone warm?” Travie yelled at the team over the noise. “Everyone double tied?”

Mike glanced down at his shoelaces, dutifully double-tied as he had been shown. He looked up to find Kevin looking down at Mike's shoes as well. “I can tie my own shoelaces,” Mike teased.

“I’m superstitious about it, so sue me,” Kevin shot back with an embarrassed little grin.

“Lucky for you, I find it adorable.” Kevin blushed, but he brushed up against Mike, tangling their fingers together for a moment before Travie was shouting them forward, further down the tunnel.

It was almost eerie, the material softening the harsh sunlight but letting the roar of the crowd pass straight through and over them. Around them, everyone was doing their own last minute routines, checking laces, stretching out shoulders, breathing deeply as they focused on the routine. Right in front of him, Ash and Bebe were murmuring quietly as they tapped their feet, rehearsing their passing tumbles in their heads.

He looked over as Brendon touched his arm. “Just so you know, it’s gonna be bright out there,” he said with uncharacteristic seriousness. “Try not to look directly into the lights. Keep your eyes on the crowd, use the form-up time to get used to the brightness.”

“And the way the noise hits you,” Spencer added over Brendon’s shoulder. “It blew me away, my first time.”

A year ago, Mike would have been pissed, thought they were being patronizing. Now, he just smiled and nodded. “Eyes on the crowd, got it.”

“You’ll do fine,” Kevin said, squeezing his hand where their fingers were still intertwined.

They shuffled forward as the next squad was herded onto the stage. “And now,” the announcer called through the canvas. “The Cambio Christian College Mouses!”

Kevin’s fingers tightened, then relaxed. He nodded tightly at Mike’s worried glance, as the roar of the crowd ticked up another notch.

The music was cheerful, the beat infectious as the crowd gasped and roared. “Go! Mouses!” Mike heard them yelled under the soundtrack.

“Cheer to basket to pyramid, I bet,” Nic said, leaning in to make herself heard. Out in the audience, there was applause and cheering...then a pained gasp, the energy dying as everyone went ‘oooh!’ with one voice.

Kevin’s eyes widened, and Mike saw Nic latch tightly onto Kevin’s arm. The music ended, and the audience clapped politely, pitying, as the marshals herded the next squad onto the stage and the whispers rippled back through the queue of teams.

_Someone fell._

*\o/*

“I’m fine,” Kevin snapped, catching Mike's worried look. “If it was bad, they would have had to stop the line to get the paramedics on stage. But it’s moving, so it can’t have been bad. They probably just dropped, so please,” he added more quietly to him. “I can’t get into my head about this, not now. They’re not my team any more, okay?”

But Mike knew him well enough now to see the tension in once-loose muscles, the way he wasn’t meeting Mike’s eyes. They just needed five more minutes -- after that, they’d be done, for better or for worse.

Just five more minutes.

Mike was looking around. He must have spotted what he was looking for, by the way he smiled suddenly. “Nic, don’t let him run away,” he told her, gently pulling his hand free and weaving away through the team.

Nic leaned her head against Kevin’s arm. “You’re right,” she said quietly, and Kevin knew she understood.

Mike reappeared, hands behind his back. “Arm,” he demanded.

Kevin slowly extended his hand. Mike all but snatched it up, turning and tucking it under his own so that Kevin couldn’t see what he was doing. Kevin frowned, feeling awkward and a little embarrassed as everyone else in the squad gathered around to watch.

Bebe smiled and Ashlee covered her mouth with her hand as they leaned in to see what Mike was doing. All Kevin could feel was the soft drag of a point over his pulse. “There.” He released Kevin’s wrist. “So you don’t forget.”

Kevin held it up, feeling his smile wobble as he saw the heart Mike had drawn over Kevin’s pulse. Inside, he had written, in his narrow, looping cursive: _fly_.

He looked up into Mike’s nervous expression. “I thought you said you weren’t one for big gestures?” he asked, instinctively stepping in closer.

“Hey,” Mike said with a shrug, like it explained everything. “It’s Nationals.”

Kevin nodded and gave up resisting the urge to hug him. “It’s Nationals.”

“Northeastern!” A marshal yelled, consulting his clipboard. “You’re up next.”

“Cobras! All in!” Travie yelled. Mike twisted around, pressing in against Kevin as they formed up the circle, hands in. “Cobras never die! Cobras gonna fly!”

*\o/*

The routine passed in a blur. The cheering of the crowd was almost tangible around them as they lined up on the mat under the lights. Then the music started.

Kevin remembered hitting his first stunt, and then that was that. Everything else was vague fragments of impressions -- Nic whooping high above his head as she went into her one-man walk-up; Mike beaming as he ran past him and into his tumble; Greta and Ashlee’s blonde hair swinging, almost silver in the light, as they sashayed to the front of the mat to whip the crowd up into a frenzy; the feel of Bebe’s skin, superheated and soft, as he helped her out of her basket. The roar of the standing ovation as they hit their last positions and shouted with one voice “Go! N! U!”

Then they were off the mat, tumbling through the far tunnel and into the post-performance marshalling area. “That was amazing!” Cassadee said, tiny tendrils of hair curling around her face.

“Come on, let’s watch!” someone else said, leading the way toward the big monitors set up on the far wall.

“Action replay time,” Kevin said, reaching for Mike who reeled him in until they were pressed together. The heart on his wrist was blurry with sweat, but Kevin didn’t need reminding anymore. He felt Nic lean against him on his other side as they stood and watched the replay on the monitors. Kevin couldn't stop his grin as he watched them transition from move to move with near-flawless precision.

“Cobras, gather in,” Travie called. “Well done. That was fucking awesome.”

“Awww, group hug,” Dallon drawled. Brendon burst out giggling and flung himself at Dallon who easily caught him under his arm and half-hauled him off his feet, squeezing him hard.

Kevin felt familiar hands on his waist, and he caught Nic’s legs easily as she jumped up into a piggy-back ride. “Happy?” he asked her over his shoulder.

She planted a wet kiss on his cheek. “Ecstatic.” She leaned over, almost unbalancing Kevin, and grabbed Mike by the scruff of his shirt. “And see our favourite newbie go!” Mike’s face was a picture as she kissed his cheek.

“Not a newbie anymore,” Spencer said with a calm smile, and Mike’s smile turned blinding.

“Congrats,” he said as Nic slid off his back and went to hug Spencer. “You’re a cheerleader. How’s it feel?”

“Amazing,” Mike said, leaning in to meet Kevin halfway for a proper kiss, ignoring the whoop of cheers and wolf-whistles that rose up around them.

*\o/*

Mike kept his hand on Kevin’s waist as he shuffled with the rest of the team back onto the stage. The sheer number of people meant they were bunched up tight, bodies pressed into each other. He managed to keep a hold of Kevin, dropping to his knees with him as they formed a little knot of purple in amid all the other squads. His heart skipped a beat as Kevin’s hand found his of its own accord, squeezing tight despite the fact they were in plain sight not only of the audience in the amphitheatre, but also the television cameras that were swooping around the stage.

He had a sudden mental picture of Bill making everyone sit around the TV to watch ESPN, and had to suppress a snigger as the announcer started his preamble.

Kevin knocked his shoulder, smiling brightly at him as the announcer started moving quickly through the bottom placings. Mike felt a murmur ripple through the team as the announcer moved through the bottom seven and into the top ten. Their name still hadn't been called.

Kevin twitched as “Cambio Christian College Mouses” was read out at number seven. Mike watched Kevin watch two boys in blue and green walked over to accept their small trophy with quiet reserve. He saw Kevin try a little smile and a tiny wave of his fingers, his whole body tense, and Mike glanced over just in time to see the two boys give a little smile and nod back.

Kevin inhaled, his entire body lifting like he was suddenly loosed of a giant weight off his shoulders, and Mike knew, no matter what their placing, it was always going to come second to that one little gesture.

The announcer continued his climb through the placings. Next to them, Nic gave a little gasp as the fourth place name was read out, and it wasn’t them. “We’ve placed,” someone whispered.

“No way,” someone else hissed as another team was called up to receive third.

The top two. The announcer smirked at his microphone as he held up the place card to his face, dragging out the moment. “And in second place,” he intoned, holding the pause. “It’s the Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks.”

Behind him Bebe squealed, hands over her mouth as the announcer smiled at the crowd. “And in first place, the Northeastern University Cobras!”

The surge of the entire team hauled Mike onto his feet. In the distance, he heard Gabe yodel in victory.

*\o/*

“Did you see the Mouse pyramid collapse?” Kevin whipped around, instinctively following the voice. “Yeah,” another voice said, the speaker obscured by the press of the crowds. “Cyrus crumbled, took her entire side down with her.” The tides of people pushed the speaker away out of earshot.

Kevin pressed on. Nic was with her aunt, somewhere, and Kevin wanted to find them. He climbed up onto a small retaining wall next to a raised garden bed and scanned the crowd, trying to find Nic, or even a flash of Cobra purple. He spotted Travie first, still triumphantly carrying the giant trophy, and skipped back down to ground level to start weaving his way over.

“Kevin?”

Kevin turned, his stomach twisting as his eyes confirmed what his ears thought they had heard. His mother slipped through a gap in the crowd, coming to a stop just a few feet away, his father right beside her.

He hadn’t seen either of them in a year, not since the argument that had ended it all. They looked older, and strangely smaller than he remembered. “Um, congratulations,” his father said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as Joe, Nick, and Frankie appeared, Frankie carrying their small trophy.

“Thanks,” he said warily, still trying to process their sudden appearance.

They stared at each other for a long moment. “Well,” his father began, but whatever he was going to say was abruptly cut off when two hands wrapped around Kevin from behind.

“Hey, there you are, Nic’s looking for you.” Mike stopped at Kevin's expression, and looked up, and Kevin felt the exact second Mike put all the pieces together. “Oh, hey, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” His voice was still light and friendly, but beneath that, Kevin heard the question.

He made a split-second decision, grabbing hold of Mike’s wrist to stop him pulling away. “It’s okay. Mike, these are my parents, and my brothers, Nick, Joe, and that's Frankie.” He took a deep breath and looked his father right in the eye. “This is my boyfriend, Mike.”

A thousand emotions, not all of them pleasant, raced across his father’s face. It was his mother who surprised him, stepping forward with nothing but a pleasant smile played across her features. “It is nice to meet you, Mike,” she said, shaking his hand. “I saw you on stage with Kevin.” Kevin wondered if she meant the routine, or after, where Mike held his hand for the world to see. He frowned as he realized that meant she at least had looked out for him on stage.

Mike mumbled some pleasantry back, but Kevin wasn’t really listening. Movement had caught his eye, and he watched as Joe and Nick, with a typical lack of discretion, glared meaningfully at their father.

His father cleared his throat. His mother stepped back and nodded encouragingly at him. “We, um, we were planning to take Nick and Joe to breakfast before stuntfest starts tomorrow,” he said stiffly. “Would you like to come, Kevin?” Joe’s jab was lightning fast and glaringly obvious. “And you are also welcome, Mike,” he managed to add without choking.

A part of Kevin wanted to throw it in their face, say it was too little, too late. But a bigger part of him wanted his brothers back in his life again, wanted to eat his mother’s cookies and go to church with them on Sundays before lunch at his grandmother’s house. He wanted his family back.

But he also didn’t want to rekindle old arguments, didn’t want his dad talking to Mike only because Joe and Nick made him. He wouldn’t do that to Mike.

He glanced over at his boyfriend. Mike smiled encouragingly and Kevin turned back to his father. “That diner out by the main road? Uh..” he felt Mike's strong presence next to him. “We'll meet you there? Say, 8.30?”

His father nodded, and Kevin’s eyes widened as he extended his hand toward Mike without prompting. “Nice to meet you, Mike.” He looked at Kevin and nodded. Kevin gasped as his mother swept in and gave him a fast but sincere hug, backing off before he could react. “We really need to find the boys’ coach,” he added, almost apologetically.

“And we still need to find Nic and get back to Gabe,” Mike said as he took Kevin's hand, covering smoothly for Kevin, who couldn’t seem to stop gaping like a fish. They stood, hand in hand, watching as Kevin’s family disappeared back into the crowd.

“Thanks,” Kevin said at last. “But I can’t guarantee it won’t descend into a screaming match”

“Screaming arguments I can handle,” Mike said reasonably as they turned and began pushing through the crowd. “I'm best friends with William Beckett, remember. And besides, I’m not about to send you into the breach alone, am I?”

Kevin breathed out. The thought of sitting down with his parents tomorrow didn’t seem so scary, knowing Mike would be there too. “Speaking of breaches,” he said, changing the subject. “Next year’s tryouts are in three weeks. Are you...?”

“Hey, I’m just getting the hang of it. Besides, we’ve got to defend our title.” There was a slight wobble on the ‘we’.

Kevin smiled and leaned against Mike. “Yeah. I guess we do.”

~fin~


End file.
